How Annabeth Chase became Buffy Summers
by IamAbotticelli
Summary: Percy's dead and Annabeth Chase has been left behind. Grieving for her best friend and boyfriend, she chooses not to return to Camp Half-Blood. Instead she's going to go and stay with her Dad's sister in LA: Joyce Summers. Formerly known as Joyce Chase.
1. Chapter 1

How Annabeth Chase became Buffy Summers

Chapter One

Annabeth Chase stood and stared out of the window of the Jacksons' apartment. Rain fell in continuous sheets. It had been like this for a week now, ever since...well, Poseidon had found out. Poseidon was in the kitchen right now, helping Paul wash up the dishes left over from the wake. Annabeth had been surprised that he had offered to help but she saw him glance at Sally's broken figure and she had decided then that maybe Lord Poseidon wasn't so bad after all.

Sally Jackson had collapsed after the last mourner had left; just sat on the couch and stared. Annabeth felt like maybe she should help her but she kind of felt like collapsing herself right now. So she stood and stared out at the endless rain. It felt appropriate, she had decided, that the sky should mourn him. After all, he had saved the world hadn't he? He had saved the world, only to get killed by some strange twist of fate.

Percy.

She could still remember watching the life drain from his bright, sea-green eyes while she held him in the middle of an alley in downtown New York; just a couple of streets away from the ocean.

Of course, everybody had told her it wasn't her fault; she couldn't have possibly known that the fight with the Minotaur would make the floor collapse into a flooded basement. She couldn't possibly have known that a trailing wire still carried some spark and would electrocute them both; killing the Minotaur and leaving Percy weakened but alive.

She knew all of this and she accepted it but the one thing she couldn't forgive herself for was for letting her guard down; for letting Percy make his own way out when he was still weak, for letting him try to climb those rotten stairs.

She could've grabbed him. He had been in her reach when the step underneath him had given out and he'd fallen backwards into the water. At first she had laughed, after all, he was a bit of a seaweed brain wasn't he? Then she had panicked when he didn't come up again.

The next part was a blur of panic. She had tied a rope and thrown it over the edge so it hung down and reached the water. She remembered practically falling down the rope into the water.

Gods that water had stank. It had mostly been sewage. It had clung to her fingers in brown lumps when she had searched the water for him and when she finally found him, it had clumped in his hair.

Her hand had reached round and felt his lower back; when it found the shard she had almost physically recoiled.

Somehow, she still didn't remember how, she had gotten them both out of that gods-be-damned basement and managed to get him outside to the alley.

Torrential gouts of rain had hit them as soon as they were outside. She was frozen within seconds but Percy, oh gods, Percy, had woken up. The rain had given him a second life or at least that was what she had hoped with every particle of her being.

Second life?

Hah!

She almost laughed at how naive she'd been. It had only given him time enough to smile and die in her arms in the rain. He had looked at her, right into her eyes with his and smiled.

Then he was gone.

Just like that, her best friend since she was eleven, the love of her life, was gone.

She had clung to him, pleaded to his blank face, not to leave her alone; she needed him _so much_ that it hurt.

But he hadn't woken up. Those eyes had remained unseeing, had quickly gone pale; losing that spark that had made her go weak at the knees more than once. Of course she had never admitted that, not to anyone, not even to him.

It had only been a week but already the world felt smaller for not having him in it. Many had said that at the wake. Even the gods had. Hades, even Lord Ares had said 'He'd miss the little punk' and coming from him that was practically a sobbed eulogy.

Out of all of the gods assembled, Annabeth decided that Mr D had been the most surprising. He had actually called her and Percy by their names and he'd complimented Percy for 'being a hero that we can be proud of for many millennia to come'. Turns out he had a soft spot for 'Old Barnacle Beard's son' after all.

There was the sound of a door opening quietly, as if it was trying not to disturb the two mourners in the living room and Annabeth turned her head to see Poseidon entering the room she and Sally were sitting in. He looked haggard and old; much older than Annabeth had ever seen him look before. His salt and pepper hair was more salt than pepper and his laughter lines had deepened, giving him a look of brokenness. He stood in front of Sally and she raised her head to give him a weak smile which he returned with just as much vigour.

"I don't know how to thank you Poseidon. It was very kind of you to stay and help," Sally said in a small voice.

"It was no trouble Sally. I'm sorry that I couldn't help more." _I'm sorry that I couldn't save our son_, was a statement that went unspoken but hung heavily in the air. Annabeth turned away. Their display of private grief was not something she could share in; they had lost a part of themselves. Her eyes tracked two raindrops as they raced each other down the windowpane. She wished her Mother was there. She needed her.

Annabeth closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, the cracking feeling in her chest numbed as she focused on pushing her emotions into a dark recess of her mind. She could deal with her own grief later, privately; she knew Sally was barely holding it together and that if Annabeth's walls cracked, then so would Sally's and Annabeth felt that Sally would rather break down in the privacy of her own home with Paul nearby than with Poseidon and Annabeth there.

Annabeth reflected on the pain Poseidon must have felt over the years; to lose so many children and to never see them again, to never be able to reunite with them in death as their mortal parents could. _It must be heartbreaking for him, for all of them, _Annabeth thought.

He had been close with Percy though and Annabeth had respected him for that. Even though he was a god, he had found the time to talk to his son and show him he cared. Annabeth's own Mother, Athena, didn't show emotion as much; sometimes Annabeth had wondered if she cared about her or any of her siblings. She shook her head to dislodge the thought. Her Mother cared about her; she knew that now for sure.

There was a sound of shifting springs and rustling cloth as Sally Jackson rose from the couch and strongly embraced Poseidon, it was almost as if she was trying to feel that shared part of them once again. However, she stepped away from him and they shared a regretful smile. Poseidon exchanged a nod with Paul that conveyed many meanings and left quietly, without the usual ceremony that the gods exited stage right with. Annabeth saw him leave out of the corner of her eye and turned back to see Sally, on the edge of breaking down. Annabeth moved then and gently touched Sally's elbow. The older woman turned to look at her and the demigod saw her pain reflected in the eyes of the mortal. Sally's knees crumpled and Annabeth caught her, managing to guide her fall towards the couch. She had never seen Percy's mom looking as frail as she did then. Annabeth knew then that it was time for her to go, time for her to leave Percy's mother to mourn without a constant reminder of her dead son's life.

"Mrs Jackson, I'll go now." She whispered and Sally nodded. As Annabeth reached the other side of the room and the entrance to the hall, she turned around. "I'm sorry that I couldn't save him Ma'am." The words hung in the air, Sally looked up at her and held judgement in that quiet second in the still apartment. Sally nodded once and Annabeth left; exiting stage right.

Annabeth tightened her coat around her body as a wind whipped through the metal canyons of New York. The rain was lashing against her skin and she felt the whips of cold sink through her skin right to her very bones. A particularly violent gust of wind blew rain into her eyes, blinding her briefly and causing her to trip over a broken piece of cement in the sidewalk. She fell heavily and the vibrations rattled through her skeleton. She was seriously considering just staying there on the ground till everything went away when the storm began to abate and a strong hand was extended into her line of sight.

"Here. Let me help you." A solemn voice announced this offer of aid and Annabeth looked up to see Poseidon, storm-bringer, earth-shaker, standing over her. Dazed, she took his hand and he pulled her up with ease. There was a slight spark of humour in his eyes as Annabeth, shocked over his sudden appearance, stared at him as if he had just stated that in his spare time he liked to dance the Macarena. "Are you alright, Miss Chase?" he asked.

"Um. Er." Annabeth shifted slightly and felt a tickling feeling enveloping her body. She looked down and saw that the water was steaming off of her. "Ye-yes sir. Thank you for helping me." The grief took a back seat as all of her neurons started screaming _Why is he here? What does he want?_

"You're welcome Miss Chase." The spark of humour in his eyes faded as they stood opposite each other. The storm settled down. They remained silent.

"Um, well-"

"Miss Chase-"

They both spoke at the same time and stopped speaking almost immediately to share an embarrassed laugh which promptly faded as the guilt of happiness hit them. The silence grew again and Annabeth, hating the oppressive thickness of it, spoke first.

"Um, thanks again sir for helping me but I should probably be heading home. My Dad will be worried." Annabeth shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "Um, so-" Poseidon cut her off before she could stumble out an awkward goodbye.

"I will accompany you Miss Chase. There are some things that I wish to discuss with you." Annabeth nodded nervously and as Poseidon began to walk in the direction of her home, she fell into step beside him. Poseidon did not speak immediately and that left Annabeth to brood over their last meeting.

The last time they'd been alone together was over Percy's cooling body.

The alley they had been in was only a few streets away from the ocean and Poseidon had come as quickly as possible. She remembered hearing his staccato footsteps as she had numbly held Percy's body. He had come into the alley, filling it with his aura of sheer power which was tied into his sheer grief. He had crumpled to the ground on the other side of Percy and reaching in-between Annabeth's shaking, shivering arms, he had closed Percy's eyes.

That was when the reality of the situation had hit her. She heard this horrible, animal-like wail. It had reverberated off every dumpster, echoed off of every nook and cranny till it filled the whole alley with the pure, raw emotion she felt; emotion so powerful that it could not be named and tamed as so many of humanity's greatest assets and their greatest flaws had been. Annabeth wasn't sure as to when exactly she knew it was her making that noise, that howl, but she remembered that it had stopped when her Mother had picked her up like a small child and soothed her with calm words.

Annabeth had clung onto Athena, crying into her neck. It was the first time in the demigod's memory that any adult had ever held her when in such a comforting, if vulnerable, position; Annabeth's Dad, even though she loved him, had never been great at the comforting hold thing and her Stepmother had come along too late to try. (A small part of Annabeth regretted that it hadn't been under better circumstances.) Still comforting her, her Mother had carried her from that alley in some nondescript warehouse district while Poseidon followed behind with Percy's body.

Since then, since her Mother had carried her home and stayed holding onto her until Lord Zeus himself had had to call her back to Olympus (even then Mother had refused to move a single inch until Annabeth's Dad was home and the accident was explained to him), she and Lord Poseidon had avoided coming into direct contact with each other. This was a harder task than usual as they both had helped Sally answer the questions of the police and prepare the funeral and wake. However they had both successfully managed the task, so Annabeth was really at a loss to explain why he was here, why he wanted to talk to her. She felt a faint stab of annoyance at this lack of knowledge which she guiltily smothered; she shouldn't be feeling anything other than grief. It was wrong to even contemplate her emotions changing from this state of pain and melancholy, even though logically she knew that she would have to move on eventually. _But logic and emotion have never been bound together_, Annabeth thought.

They walked on in silence. A dog barked across the street. Cars and taxis rushed past them, seeming to be moving in a different world to the one they inhabited. They turned the corner of the block and passed a school playground filled with screaming children.

"That was Percy's first grade school." Poseidon said quietly as they walked by. Annabeth looked at him in surprise. Poseidon, perhaps noting her look, carried on. "I have always kept watch on my son, Miss Chase. I always tried to protect him as best as I could without breaking the Ancient Laws." Pedestrians parted around them, leaving a gap of at least three feet at all times. The ADHD part of her brain wished she had that power; she was always getting jostled by people when she walked in New York. "But what happened in the warehouse was random, unforeseeable and unstoppable. I couldn't do anything Miss Chase, and you couldn't have done anything either." Annabeth inhaled sharply and her hands formed tight fists; her nails digging into her palm. They kept walking though. Annabeth dimly recognised the buildings, they were close to her home, but she kept her focus on the words of the god walking beside her. They reached her home a few minutes later and the door creaked open as they stopped in front of the porch steps. "It was not your fault Miss Chase. Remember that as you grieve." She stood still in shock for a few moments before Poseidon gave her a light push and she was propelled up the steps. She turned to look at him. He nodded to her, just like he'd nodded to Paul back in the Jackson's apartment and began to walk away.

"Sir! Wait a minute!" Annabeth called out quickly. Poseidon stopped and turned to look at her, a gleam of curiosity entering his eyes. "Thank you sir, but why are you helping me?" Poseidon smiled at her briefly, but it was untainted by grief.

"You love my son."

Annabeth didn't bother to argue about the tense with him.

**AN: Okay, the timeline is different because I've shunted everything back a year. Percy and Annabeth's first quest was when they were 11 not 12 and he saved the world on his 15th birthday not his 16th. There was another great prophecy but as of this moment in time, I'm not sure if I'll act on it or not. Annabeth is 15 so I can add the Buffy timeline to her own personal timeline without too much trouble. Also, Annabeth's family are back in New York for a time, her Dad got a new job in the Museum there; in fact, he got the job at about the same time as Annabeth was made Architect of Olympus… **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Disillusionment 

"Dad? Can I talk to you?" asked Annabeth; she was standing at the door of her father's study. Frederick Chase looked up at his daughter from the toy plane he was currently using to attack a line of toy soldiers with and smiled; he'd hardly seen Annabeth after the funeral, which had been a week ago. His aviator goggles were slung around his neck and a pair of glasses balanced haphazardly on the end of his nose.

"Yes dear, what is it?" he asked.

"I don't want to go to Camp Half-Blood next week." She looked nervously at him. Frederick frowned; his bushy eyebrows drawing together.

"Why not dear? Do you want to go earlier? Because I can take you there tomorrow if that's what you want." Annabeth gave him an awkward smile and moved into the study to sit in the chair opposite his desk. Frederick felt a sense of foreboding fill him. He was not going to like her answer.

"No Dad. I don't want to go back earlier," she said. The frown on Frederick's face deepened; he had never known his daughter to be so, so _hesitant_ when asking him something. Usually she just came right out with it, consequences be damned.

"Well then, when do you want to go back to Camp?" he asked.

"Never." Frederick sighed, he was right; he hadn't liked the answer. Meanwhile Annabeth's head had drooped and she let her long, golden curls cover her face. Her right foot bounced as she tapped it; trying to dispel some of her nervous energy. She wasn't looking forward to her Dad's reaction to this statement of intent; especially considering how many times she had had to leave home to go to Camp and how many times she hadn't but had gone anyway. She licked her lips quickly as her Dad began to speak again.

"Annabeth, I understand that you are upset over Percy's death but Chiron has specifically requested that you return to Camp this year." A small sliver of pain flashed across his eyes as he remembered that conversation. Chiron wanted her at Camp so he could keep an eye on her, just in case she showed signs of wanting to, well; go out like an old hero of the Greek tales. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as if to squeeze out the errant thought. He sighed again. He _really_ didn't want to think about that.

Annabeth's right foot stilled its frenetic bouncing and she seemed to draw in on herself, searching for some inner reserve of strength before she took in a deep breath, straightened out her spine and stared resolutely into her Dad's eyes.

"No Dad. You don't understand. This isn't just about _him._" Annabeth closed her eyes for a second too long before opening them again."I never want to go back to Camp Half-Blood." Frederick stared at her. Okay, so he hadn't taken her seriously the first time she had said 'never' but she seemed adamant in her stance. Frederick's shock gave way to incredulity.

"But-_Annabeth_! You love Camp! It's like a second home for you. What about your siblings? Your friends?" He was searching frantically for a reason to make her go back to Camp. He didn't want to have to enter her room (which was forbidden territory to all) and confiscate her weapons. As Percy had once commented to him, you didn't touch Annabeth's stuff unless you wanted a many holes made in important places.

"My siblings are all clever people. They'll be fine without me!" Annabeth protested; her left hand started tapping her thigh in small bursts of nervous energy. "As for my friends: what friends? There are only a handful of us, the original campers, left!" Annabeth's voice was both sad and tired. "So many are dead," she whispered, before closing her eyes, pausing and taking in a deep breath to collect her emotions together before continuing. "Most of the campers this year will be new faces, new siblings and I just; I can't _handle _that right now." Annabeth looked at the wall. "They'll be so young." Her gaze returned to Frederick and her tone almost became conversational. "Do you know that when I was at his funeral, I was looking at my friends' faces and all I could see were the people who weren't there and should have been there." She snorted lightly in contempt. "There shouldn't have even been a funeral," she muttered before she threw up her hands in a meaningless gesture of despair. "Gods, Dad. Too many have been lost; I can't go back, not now, not _ever_."

Frederick Chase's face had paled during her speech but he managed to sputter out,

"But what about Olympus? What about-" He was searching for a reason, any reason, to get her to go back but Annabeth just waved a hand and interrupted him.

"I finished the plans for Olympus about a week before Percy-" She sighed and leant back in her chair, suddenly looking older than her fifteen years, "I finished the plans about a week before he died, Dad. Mother can take care of anything else; she knows the plans just as well as I do." Her tone was chilling to Frederick and his mind immediately returned to Chiron's warning. He shook his head, his daughter would not do that; she wouldn't.

"Dear, I understand that you're upset about losing so many friends and that Percy's death has shocked you but, Camp is the only safe place in the world where you can exist without the fear of being hunted. Annabeth, you're a demigod-"

"Well maybe I don't want to be," she muttered; pain filling her voice and bitterness coating her tone. Her left hand stilled its movements as Annabeth flung herself upright and strode to the door of the study, yanking it open and stalking out. Meanwhile, Frederick had taken a step back as if she'd slapped him. Even in their worst fights, and they'd had too many to count, she had never denied who she was like this. He shook himself out of his daze and hurried after her, calling out to her retreating back.

"I, Annabeth, please, think about what you're saying! You can't just deny your nature! You're a demigod and you always will be!" He was practically shouting at her now. His wife had frozen upon hearing their raised voices and the twins were staring wide-eyed at their Dad and older sister fighting. Annabeth stopped, ignoring their spectators, and turned around, facing him as an equal, not as an obedient daughter; not that she had ever been particularly obedient to her father, she would be among the first to admit that.

"I don't want to be like this anymore. I don't want to go to a summer camp where every year I count the faces of those left and every time, someone's not there." She was crying now and Frederick felt something inside of him twist at the sight. "Gods, I just want to be _normal_." Annabeth looked like she couldn't quite believe that those words had left her mouth any more than her father could but her expression quickly hardened and any visible doubts were crushed. Frederick stared at her and he was ashamed to admit that when Annabeth had been small, he had wished for much the same thing. His shame though, quickly morphed into anger.

"You can never be normal Annabeth! You are a demigod, and there is nothing you can do that will change that!" The twins flinched at his shouts and his wife ushered them quietly from the room as she shook of her shock. He paused to let them go and then he sucked in a breath. "You are going to Camp Half-Blood and that's final!" Annabeth looked at him, straight into his eyes.

"No." was all she said before she turned around and walked up the stairs, leaving a deflated and worried Frederick behind.

They argued for a week, backwards and forwards. Each side parried arguments with counter-arguments and fell foul of the other's unyielding footwork. Wisely, Annabeth's stepmother stayed out of their duels and kept the twins out of the way of the fighters as they paced their chosen corners of the house before entering back into the fray; more determined and stubborn than before.

Frederick tried every reason, every argument, every trick that he could think of. However Annabeth remained unmoved by him, and deep down, Frederick accepted that he couldn't win but he continued on desperately. However Annabeth kept firmly to her plan.

On the seventh day of almost continuous fighting, Frederick was recuperating in his study from the last battle. He knew that he would have to forfeit the argument, admit defeat. He could only pray that 'somebody else' would talk some sense into his stubborn daughter. He cleaned his glasses absentmindedly and he almost dropped them in surprise as a knock sounded on his study door.

"Come in!" he called and Annabeth stepped inside. She looked just as tired as he felt and perhaps more vulnerable than he had even seen her. She shut the door behind her and walked up to his desk.

"Dad, I'm not going back to Camp Half-Blood and if you try to force me to go again, I'll leave New York and go away by myself. I don't want to leave home Dad, but I'll do it if I have no other choice." Her voice was quiet but full of determination. The worst thing about it was that it was hardly an empty threat. Frederick knew that Annabeth would do it if she really felt that she had no other choice.

"There's nothing I can do to change your mind. Is there?" He asked, not really expecting the answer he hoped for.

"No, there isn't Dad," she replied; her solemn eyes gazing at him. She had always had solemn eyes, Frederick remembered with a slight twinge of pain, even when she was a baby.

"Alright, alright," he groaned out. "You don't have to go to Camp." Annabeth, instead of smiling in victory, collapsed in the seat opposite his desk. She looked at him and Frederick groaned. "There's something else isn't there?" he asked. She nodded in the affirmative. "What is it?"

"I have been thinking about some of the points you've raised Dad. You're right, New York isn't safe but L.A is," Annabeth said.

"L.A? Why is L.A safer than New York? And what does this have to do with anything?" asked a frustrated Frederick. Annabeth licked her lips nervously and continued.

"New York is too close to Camp, monsters are attracted to here. Also, the fact that Olympus is nearby means that New York is a sort of hub of energy that most monsters can feed off of." Annabeth explained quietly. Frederick looked at her in surprise; why hadn't he heard this before? Annabeth continued to speak. "As for why L.A, L.A is where Aunt Joyce lives and I want to go live with her," she said.

"What? It's bad enough that you're not going to Camp but you want to move across the country as well?" Frederick Chase couldn't help his pain at the idea that his child wanted to get as far away from him as possible while remaining in the same country.

"L.A is safer than New York Dad, I'm less likely to get attacked by monsters there, and I can't stay in New York. Not now. I just can't," she was pleading with him; pleading for him to understand. Frederick looked at her and even though he saw that she was resolved in her current course of action, he could see the deep grief resonating behind those storm-cloud eyes of hers.

Frederick sighed. If L.A truly was safer than New York then he'd have to let her go; after all, his whole argument about her going to Camp Half-Blood was based on her safety. He just hoped his sister would agree to take her, would agree to watch out for her, and besides, maybe time away would help her to change her mind? Help her to grieve safely and not do what Chiron had suggested she might do? Who knew?

"Alright. Fine. I know I can't change your mind so I'll call Joyce now and see if she'll take you." Annabeth smiled at him, moving forward to hug him. "But you have to call Chiron and tell him that you're not going to Camp." Annabeth stiffened slightly as she hugged him before relaxing again.

"Okay Dad, I'll go call him right now. Thanks, you won't regret it; I promise," she whispered in his ear before releasing him and turning to go out of the study. Frederick gazed mournfully at her retreating back and then switched his gaze to the phone on his desk after she had shut the door.

"I hope I don't Annabeth, I really hope I don't." He glanced at the clock, it was quite late in the evening by New York time and it was a Saturday so Joyce should be at home right now. He sighed and picked up the phone and dialled. The phone was answered and, even though his sister couldn't see him, Frederick Chase still planted a nervous smile on his face. "Hello Joyce! It's me, uh, Freddy. I know we haven't talked in awhile but I need to ask you a favour. It's about your niece, Annabeth."

Annabeth shut the door of the study behind her, her heart thudded in her chest; she had won. She then headed up to her room to use the phone there. Her Dad's phone was on a different line to the rest of the house because his work often meant that he'd be getting calls at ungodly times in the dark of the night from colleagues in different time zones.

She reached her room and quickly walked over to the bedside table where her phone rested next to a picture of her and Percy after their first quest. She picked up the picture and smiled. Her finger slowly traced the outline of Percy's face. They both looked so young. Annabeth smiled sadly as she remembered the picture being taken; it had been a warm evening and the clouds had pealed back to show the most beautiful night sky. Zeus had been in a good mood with the campers that night. She and Percy looked very happy (Percy had later joked that he had still been coming down from the high of not being served crispy by his Uncle) and Percy's arm was casually slung around her shoulders while her arm had snaked around his waist. She smiled sadly again and placed the picture back down before opening the drawer of her bedside table and pulling out an address book. As her address book was filed according to the ancient Greek alphabet, Chiron was near the end:

Χείρων- (631) 456-7890

She picked up the phone and dialled the number. There was a ringing sound for a few seconds when the phone was picked up and a gruff voice answered.

"Yeah this is Camp Half-Blood. Who's callin' and what do ya want?" said the voice. Annabeth blinked in surprise before a peal of laughter escaped her lips. The humour lifting the dark cloud that had surrounded her most of the time since Percy had died.

"Who did you beat up this time to get secretary duty, Clarisse?" she asked, amused. There was a sharp intake of breath from the other side of the line before Clarisse breathed out and muttered a word which Annabeth didn't quite catch but knew it was uncomplimentary at best.

"Well you know how it is Princess, I mean there was this arrogant little newbie, I decided to knock some sense into him and he turned out to be one of Mr D's kid's." Clarisse's voice, while gruff, had betrayed some affection for Annabeth when she had called her 'Princess'. They had been through a lot together and they were friends; of course, if someone asked them if they were friends they would've lied through their teeth and declared their undying hatred for each other. Annabeth laughed again.

"Oh Clarisse, you didn't! You know what Mr D is like when it comes to his own kids. He's not exactly the god of equality you know," she berated Clarisse gently.

"Yeah, yeah, I know Annabeth." However some satisfaction had crept into the daughter of war's voice. "But that kid ain't as arrogant anymore and he definitely won't be getting in my way again."

"You're impossible, you know that right?"

"I know Princess. Anyway, whadda'ya want? I know you aren't callin' to hear my lovely voice." Clarisse sounded curious and Annabeth couldn't blame her. She never normally called Camp using the telephone; she usually just IM'ed Chiron if she wanted to talk to him.

"Clarisse, although hearing your voice has just become the highlight of my day," Annabeth could practically picture Clarisse rolling her eyes on the other end of the phone "I need to talk to Chiron about my arrangements for Camp this year." There was a long pause in the conversation but Annabeth knew Clarisse was still there because she could hear her breathing in and out heavily.

"You're still coming to Camp aren't you Princess?" Clarisse asked quietly and with a surprising edge of vulnerability. Annabeth winced and just as she was mentally scrabbling for a good reply, she heard Chiron asking who was on the phone and taking the phone from Clarisse; she suspected that Chiron had been checking in on Clarisse regularly, everyone knew she wasn't the most gracious of secretary's.

"Hello this is Chiron speaking, who is this?" Chiron's voice was calm and authoritative. She heard a muffled protest in the background that quickly subsided; Chiron must have given Clarisse his 'I'm several thousand years older and I've learned a lot of nasty things, do you really want to get on my bad side?' glare. That glare could stop a Party-pony from reaching for a root beer but it was most famous in demigod circles. Annabeth had once been on the receiving end of that glare when she had been ten and masterminded a counter attack on the Hermes cabin for a prank of theirs that had targeted one of her siblings; needless to say, she hadn't done it again but the Hermes cabin still hadn't pranked her cabin again for _years_. The humour of the memory drained away as she remembered why she was calling.

"Hello Chiron, this is Annabeth. Um, I needed to talk to you about Camp this year." Annabeth gulped and rubbed the back of her neck with her free hand.

"Oh Annabeth! It is such a pleasure to hear from you my dear. I am so looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?" Chiron asked; affection colouring his tone. Guilt immediately filled Annabeth at his kind voice. Gods, did this have to be so hard?

"I won't be coming to Camp this year." Annabeth rushed out. There. She'd said it. It hadn't been that hard…

"Annabeth," He stopped searching for the words "I understand that recent times have been hard for you but you must come to Camp!"

"No Chiron, I'm not coming back." interjected Annabeth.

"But, my dear, what does your father say about this?"

"He's resigned to me getting my way in this Chiron."

"What about your Mother? I doubt she'll approve of your decision."

"I doubt she will too Chiron but I'm set in my choice. I'm not coming to Camp this year." Annabeth stated with a calm facade but on the inside, her heart was thrumming loudly in her chest. Chiron sighed on the other end of the phone.

"There's nothing I can do to persuade you otherwise is there Annabeth?" he sounded disappointed.

"No Chiron, there isn't. I'm sorry. I really am." Annabeth winced at his obvious dissatisfaction with her. "I give up my cabin counsellor position Chiron, my siblings can sort out who to pick for cabin counsellor by themselves."

"You will come back to us, my dear, won't you?" asked Chiron. Annabeth gripped the phone tightly. She was well aware that she had started crying. However, she couldn't and wouldn't lie to Chiron, no matter how tempting it was.

"I don't think I will sir, I'm sorry but I really have to go now." She quickly hung up the phone and placed it carefully in its resting spot. Her arms moved and wrapped themselves around her waist. She hunched over and cried silently for the loss of a life that she had once loved.

Several miles away on Long Island shore, Chiron took the phone from his ear and placed it in its cradle. Clarisse looked at Chiron's sad face and whispered,

"She's not coming back again is she?" Chiron shook his head once sadly.

"No Clarisse, she will not be returning to us," he said and for a second he seemed to become his uncle, Atlas, holding the weight of the sky for eternity. Clarisse rose from behind the desk visibly upset and walked out, slamming the door behind her. Chiron let her go; he couldn't blame her for her reaction.

High on Olympus, Athena watched the sobbing form of her daughter in a scrying pool. She frowned before sighing. She would have to go and talk to her daughter and soon. Maybe she could convince Annabeth to stop taking this foolhardy and irrational path but, Athena knew she couldn't force her daughter to do anything she didn't want to. Still, the sooner she acted the more chance she had of stopping her daughter before she became even more resolute and illogical, although it had to be said that Athena's hopes were not high in that regard. Her daughter could be very stubborn and it was with a small amount of pride that Athena reflected on the fact that her daughter had inherited a lot of her own character traits as well as her appearance.

**AN: Okay, the Buffy timeline will be introduced in about three chapters or so. It will start with where the movie started but obviously it will follow Joss Whedon's darker take on being the vampire slayer. **


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Confrontations

Clarisse stormed out of the Big House and headed straight for the pegasi stables. She was going to talk to Annabeth, screw the consequences. The pegasi snorted softly as she entered and Clarisse tried to ignore the sharp stab of pain in her gut; Silena had loved it in here. She stopped and gazed at the occupied stalls; the pegasi shuffling under the weight of her gaze. A wave of emotion passed through Clarisse as she stared at them. But as quickly as it had come, she shoved it down to the back of her mind (she had a _mission_ after all) and moved to harness a pure white Pegasus named Phillip. She didn't think Annabeth would want her turning up on Blackjack.

As she moved around the pegasus, something gripped her leg; stopping her. A vine was clinging to her leg and she looked up towards the stable doorway. Mr D was standing there, holding a coke can. He did not look pleased.

"Where on earth do you think you're going, Clarabelle?" he asked her; irritation clear in his voice. Clarisse unsheathed her sword and sliced viciously through the vine before continuing to make the pegasus ready for flight.

"I'm going to see Annabeth sir; she needs some sense knocked into her." Clarisse kept her tone as respectful as she could; she wanted to get off secretary duty sometime before the summer ended. Mr D sighed in annoyance, crumpling the coke can and tossing it over his shoulder.

"And this couldn't wait till tomorrow because?" he asked, conjuring a deck chair which he promptly sat down in; the leopard skin print of his tracksuit bulging in all the wrong places. Clarisse's face hardened and her hands tightened on the saddle she was holding.

"She's not coming back tomorrow, Sir. She's not coming back ever apparently." Clarisse was practically growling. Annabeth was one of the only friends she had left. (Not that Clarisse would ever admit that out loud.) Hell, she was family! (Or that.) And family doesn't let family make stupid choices; like the choice Annabeth had made. (Yep, Clarisse was going to make sure she changed her mind about that real soon.)

Mr D's head had snapped up at her announcement and he looked astonished.

"What? What on earth has gotten into that girl?" he questioned in surprise, sitting up abruptly in his chair.

"I don't know sir, but I'm going to go and knock it out of her." Clarisse said, slightly vindictively; Annabeth might be family but she was abandoning Clarisse.

The daughter of Ares had almost finished readying Phillip; she just needed a couple more minutes and she could be on her way to see Annabeth. Mr D was frowning and he appeared to be lost in thought as Clarisse put the finishing touches to Phillip. She guided the pegasus to the door and stepped outside into the bright sunshine. Mr D followed her, still lost in thought, his face as dark as thunder. He finally nodded to himself and turned to Clarisse.

"Yes, it appears Anniebelle is not her normal self right now. Her mother is not happy" He nodded at the storm cloud that was just visible over the horizon.

"Neither are Poseidon, Aphrodite or Artemis apparently. That storm cloud is all their collective doing." The storm cloud had visibly thickened as he said their names.

"Nor am I happy for that matter. Go and try to talk some sense into the girl." He nodded again and began to walk away, apparently satisfied with the course of action he had chosen to take, whilst leaving Clarisse staring after him in barely disguised shock. He sounded like he _cared_.

"Make sure you return before sunset, Candice. I would _hate_ to have to replace the harpies because they choked on your bones." Mr D's drawling voice reached her and Clarisse rolled her eyes. Yeah, right, like Mr D cared. That was a good one; she'd have to share it with Annabeth after she'd dragged her ass back to Camp. An owl hooted from a tree and the daughter of Ares quickly shook her head and cleared all thoughts of the future. Right now she needed to think of the best way to convince Annabeth that she was being an idiot; failing that, she needed to come up with a plan to knock her out and bring her back home anyway. She mounted the pegasus and was in the air in a matter of moments. They circled the camp once to gain altitude before soaring away towards New York. Towards the black storm cloud that covered much of the city.

Annabeth lay curled up in a ball on her bed; her knees tucked under her chin. She was looking out of the window that was opposite her bed. It was raining again and a thick, black oppressive storm cloud covered all the sky she could see. She hoped it wasn't a sign of her Mother's mood, but the small subconscious part of her brain had accepted that it probably was.

Suddenly, a shape flitted across the window and she bolted upright. It looked like-no. _No_. It couldn't have been that. She stood up and ran to the window. For just a split second she could have sworn she had seen a pegasus. However the sky was clear and she was just turning away in relief when she glanced down to the street and froze.

Just outside her house, Clarisse was getting off of a pegasus and she did not look happy. Annabeth glanced at her invisibility cap and briefly considered climbing down the drainpipe to escape Clarisse. She then tried to open the window but it was stuck firm; which was suspicious when Annabeth considered that just half an hour ago she had opened it without a problem. Great. Clarisse had at least one god on her side in this and Annabeth had a sneaking suspicion that she knew which god it was.

She looked out of the window and saw an owl perch itself in the tree opposite. Annabeth's eyes narrowed and she glared at the bird that just ruffled its feathers as though it were huffing at her. Annabeth, irritated, drummed her fingers on the window sill; she would be having words with her Mother about this.

Clarisse reached the front door and Annabeth, shaken from her staring match, quickly tried the window again in desperation, only to yelp with pain as her sweaty hand slipped and slammed into the window.

Cursing her luck, she winced as she heard Clarisse hammer on the door. Clarisse in a bad mood is not someone you wanted to talk to. Or see. Or even be in the same room with. She had this nasty habit of throwing things-sharp, pointy things- when she was pissed off. Annabeth looked around for another escape route but quickly concluded there was none as she heard her stepmother let Clarisse in. She looked at the owl in the tree again and it seemed rather smug. Annabeth muttered something darkly under her breath about 'only interfering when it suits her' before quickly trying the window one last time. It was stuck firm. She rested her hand in defeat on the cold glass and listened for Clarisse.

It took less than fifteen seconds for Annabeth to hear Clarisse stomping up the stairs. A particularly loud stomp as Clarisse hit the top of the staircase made her wince. This was not going to be pretty. Annabeth moved away from the door. Clarisse's footsteps grew louder as she walked down the landing; towards Annabeth's room.

The door was flung open and a wet, angry daughter of Ares stood on the threshold. Annabeth glanced over at her invisibility cap, it was by the door, by Clarisse; Clarisse followed her line of sight and growled as she moved inside the room and shut the door behind her.

"Not a chance Princess," she said, quickly grabbing the cap before Annabeth could move. She threw the cap over her shoulder as she moved towards Annabeth. She stopped in front of Annabeth and glared. Clarisse had a good inch height wise on Annabeth so her intimidation tactics were starting to work fairly well.

"What in Hades do you think you're doing?" barked Clarisse; water dripping down her face.

"You can't just decide not to come back to Camp! I thought you were meant to be wise, _wise-girl_, not stupid! Did'ya even think about the monsters?" Clarisse was both angry and incredulous.

"What about being a demigod? You can't just stop being who you are Annabeth!" Clarisse threw her hands up, like she was praying for someone to knock some sense into Annabeth.

"Life doesn't work like that! So tell me, what in the name of the gods was running through your mind when you just _chose _not come to the one safe place on earth for you? Hmm?" Clarisse placed her hands on her hips; she was in full scolding mode now.

"Tell me Princess, 'cause I _really _want to know." Clarisse folded her arms and looked down at Annabeth; employing every extra centimetre of her height to full effect but, if there was one thing that Annabeth hated above all else, it was being talked down to. If Clarisse had come in calmly and tried to reason with Annabeth, Annabeth may have listened, but now that she was angry, and growing angrier by the second, there wasn't really a chance of this encounter ending calmly and reasonably. Annabeth straightened her spine and stood toe to toe with Clarisse.

"I know what I'm doing boar-head. Stay out of it!" she said, anger filling her from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair. Clarisse's face darkened at the use of her father's symbol as an insult and growled.

"Really owl-brains? 'Cause it don't look like it!" They both glared at each other, neither of them breaking eye contact.

"Yeah, well, I don't have to explain myself to you Clarisse. We're bitter enemies remember? Not bosom buddies." Annabeth snarled and she made to push past Clarisse, but Clarisse wasn't about to let her pass by easily.

She grabbed Annabeth in a python-like hold; restricting the movement of Annabeth's arms. The daughter of Athena tried to wriggle out of the grip but Clarisse's hold was strong. Clarisse manoeuvred them away from the door and into the middle of Annabeth's room. She then managed to shove a furiously struggling Annabeth to the floor and quickly moved to secure her in place by pulling her arms behind her back and straddling Annabeth's back. It was a good hold. You had to have a large muscle mass to break it and while Annabeth was strong, she was more wiry than muscled. Annabeth, breathing heavily, stopped struggling and gave in to Clarisse. It was only after she had relaxed that Clarisse spoke. She sounded exasperated.

"We don't have to go through all of that again do we? We made a deal remember? When I went off on my secret mission last year?" Her knee nudged Annabeth in the side gently. Annabeth sighed and placed her head on the floor; forehead to the carpet. She remembered that deal all too well and guilt surged through her at the comment she had made to Clarisse.

"Yes, I remember." She whispered.

"Sorry Clarisse. I just…I couldn't…You were there…and I'm sorry." She bit her lip and stopped talking. Clarisse's hold lessened in its intensity and she climbed off of Annabeth before turning her over and letting go of her arms. Annabeth sat up and Clarisse stood. She offered Annabeth her hand and Annabeth took it.

"Good, cause I don't want to have ta' beat it back into your mind, numskull." Clarisse said with a small smile as she helped Annabeth up.

"Now, you're coming to Camp. That's final, wise-girl. If I have ta' knock you out and sling you over the back of my pegasus, I'll do it." Annabeth had no doubt that Clarisse would and therein lay her problem. She didn't want to knock Clarisse out and run away but if she had to…well, she wasn't going back to Camp. She moved away from Clarisse and looked out of the window. The owl had disappeared; Annabeth thought darkly that her Mother had probably gone to find a better vantage point. She turned back to the daughter of Ares and sighed.

"I won't go back Clarisse, I can't go back. I'm sorry, I just can't." Clarisse frowned and took a step towards Annabeth who immediately took a step back; a step closer towards the door.

"That's a load of bull, Princess. You _can_ and _will_ go back, especially if you're unconscious for the trip." She took another step forwards and Annabeth stepped back and reached behind herself for the doorknob.

"I won't go back Clarisse, I'm sorry but you can't make me return. Strength has to bow to wisdom sometimes," she said while twisting the doorknob and opening the door. She then turned and ran out of the door but she ran straight into a warm body that held her fast with strong arms. She looked up, past the owl brooch on the grey jacket and into her Mother's eyes. They were the colour of a roiling sky in the midst of a thunder storm that threatened to tear the sky apart; if eyes were the windows to the soul then Annabeth's Mother was not happy.

"Yes, I admit that is true daughter. But you can hardly be called wise at this point in time."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Mother-Daughter Bonding

Athena's tone could only be described as icy. Annabeth winced. Her Mother was definitely not happy. She then tried to move out of the hold and Lady Athena let her go. Annabeth quickly scrabbled backwards and her Mother stepped forwards. The door shut behind them with a thud. The daughter of Athena twitched at the noise as the goddess turned to Clarisse.

"It appeared that you needed help, Miss LaRue. My daughter is very good at running away, especially lately it seems." Annabeth winced again. Talking about her in the third person while she was in the room? Definitely a sign that her Mother was angry with her; Athena only did that when she felt the person she was talking about was not worth the effort of being spoken to directly. Clarisse bowed to Athena.

"Thank you Ma'am. Would you like me to leave so you can talk to Annabeth in private?" Athena smiled and shook her head.

"No Miss LaRue, I think it is _vital_ that you stay." Athena then snapped her fingers and a sturdy wooden chair appeared in the middle of the room. Annabeth's eyes darted to the chair and then to her goddess. Her Mother was looking at her expectantly and Annabeth quickly sat in the chair. Athena then conjured a cushioned chair which was placed in front of the door and opposite to Annabeth. As Athena sat down in her own chair, she nodded to Clarisse and Annabeth heard the bed squeak slightly as Clarisse sat down on it. Annabeth swallowed down her fear and let her pride take over; her spine straightened and she stared straight back into her Mother's eyes.

"How are you even here Mother? I thought the gods were supposed to not intervene with their children and after you were here last time for so long, hasn't Lord Zeus ordered you to stay away?" A small smile lifted the edge of Athena's lips.

"You are quite right, he did, but several other gods added their vote to mine and I was allowed to come here." Annabeth's mind raced. Several other gods had agreed to let her Mother come down from Olympus and talk to a mortal daughter? It was almost unheard of.

"Several other gods? Who and why? You'd have to have a majority vote for something like this," she asked, curiosity overwhelming her mind.

"Mr D, Lord Poseidon, Lady Aphrodite and Lady Artemis," said Clarisse from behind her. Thunder rumbled outside. Annabeth twisted around in her seat and looked at her in surprise. Clarisse just shrugged.

"Mr D told me before I left Camp." Annabeth turned back round to look at her Mother who was looking amused by the exchange between the two demigods.

"Yes almost right Miss LaRue, if you include my vote and Lord Apollo's and Lord Hermes, we just scraped a majority. Father was most displeased."

"But why would they vote to allow you to talk to _me_?" asked Annabeth. Athena sighed but she answered nonetheless.

"Apollo voted in my favour because Artemis did. Artemis voted in my favour because she knows the path you tread will lead into danger, possibly death, and her Lieutenant sees you as a younger sister, also I think she said you have the 'soul of a true maiden'. Hermes voted in remembrance of his son I believe. Aphrodite did it in gratitude for what you did for her daughter, Silena." She glanced at Clarisse when she said that but continued.

"I think she has also fixated on you as the main character of her new tragedy of this century-if you died from a monster, it would be quite a let down in her opinion." Athena's face darkened and the thunder's incessant rumbling increased slightly.

"Dionysus, well, I honestly don't know why he voted in my favour. He can be somewhat unpredictable at times. As for my uncle Poseidon, he has been quite surprising of late. He has been helping me a lot recently. I believe he does it because of-" Athena stopped and looked at Annabeth, she seemed concerned. Annabeth dropped her head slightly before looking up.

"Because of Percy right?" She could feel her eyes watering but damn it, she wasn't going to cry! Athena nodded. Her face softened for a second and Annabeth felt a burst of positive emotion caress her mind lightly before Athena's face hardened and the positivity faded quickly.

"Yes, so including myself, that makes three, possibly four, divine beings who think you are making a mistake and being very foolish. I watched your arguments with your Father and while I cannot stop you from doing this damn silly thing, I can make life very difficult for you if you choose to continue with this current course of action." Athena's tone had now reverted to the absolutely glacial as she returned to the reason of her visit.

"Really Mother, wouldn't that come under intervention?" asked Annabeth, angry at being threatened in her own room and having Clarisse see it all? That just made it worse, and she knew her Mother knew that. Behind her she heard Clarisse take in a sudden breath. If at all possible, Athena's eyes became darker and outside, the storm rumbled louder.

"You know better than to be pert with me, _child_."

"Really? I can't remember it ever being mentioned in Demigod 101." Annabeth snapped her fingers as though she had just remembered something before continuing to speak.

"Oh wait! Now I remember; Arachne right? She was _pert _and what was it you did again?" Annabeth looked straight into her Mother's eyes as she delivered her final sentence.

"Oh, yeah, now I remember; you caused her to kill herself and then you turned her into a _spider_." Annabeth knew she shouldn't be antagonising her Mother: it would not end well for her. The storm clouds outside fell silent in an almost reverent hush and Athena met her gaze solidly, without a flicker of emotion in her eyes.

"You may be my daughter Annabeth, but I will not take that tone from anyone." Athena said quietly. Annabeth felt a chill slip down her spine as her Mother's full power began to manifest itself.

Opposite her was not her Mother, but the goddess who had fought the giant Pallas and crushed him, the goddess who had caused all of creation to stop and revel in the sheer power of her birth when she had sprung fully-grown from Zeus' head. At the sight of this aspect of her Goddess, Annabeth felt her obstinacy drain away faster than water spilt in the desert. Perhaps sensing her shift in emotions, Athena's aura of power decreased and Annabeth could almost see her shift her mind-set from Warrior to Mother once again.

"I am sorry Mother for my, pertness, but I do not like being threatened; not from anyone, no matter how well-intentioned their threats are." Annabeth looked into her Mother's eyes as she apologised and found herself unable to look away as her Mother seemed to judge the sincerity of her apology. Finally Athena nodded and Annabeth's gaze was freed.

"Well daughter, you will have the whole summer to change your view when you go back to Camp." Annabeth rolled her eyes and felt a familiar sense of annoyance rise up.

"First Clarisse, then you? If I have to keep saying this, I will." She could practically feel Clarisse's stare boring into the back of her neck; wondering what the hell she was doing. Not that Annabeth would have been able to answer her. Normally she held her Mother in the highest regard (and still did) and she wouldn't even contemplate insulting her but this wasn't a 'normal' situation. Truthfully, she had felt…different since Percy had died, stronger and with less control over her fiery spirit which she 'normally' kept contained and which she channelled into her work. Camp Half-Blood, which had once been a safe haven for her, now seemed oppressive in her mind and almost repellent. Annabeth had tried to rationalise her feelings but she had yet to reach a satisfactory conclusion.

"I am not going back to Camp, Mother. Not now, not ever." Annabeth enunciated each word clearly and with each word that passed her lips, her Mother's gaze narrowed even more.

"Yes you are," replied her Mother, with equal enunciation.

"You are not safe in this world Annabeth, and you never will be."

"Why is everyone so concerned about my safety?" Annabeth cried out, almost laughing at the irony.

"Usually the gods couldn't care less if one of their children decides to leave and they definitely wouldn't go to the lengths you have." Annabeth stopped as a new and disturbing thought occurred to her. She frowned at Athena.

"What are you not telling me, Mother?" Annabeth stood up, moving a few steps to the side of the chair. She felt a nervous energy take hold of her body; her fingers frantically tapping the side of her thigh. She had to get out of this small, confining room.

"Annabeth, please sit down, I will explain everything later, I promise." Annabeth noted how a gleam of worry had entered her Mother's eyes.

"I'm right aren't I? There's something I don't know; something important and not just to me, but for you and the other Olympians as well." Annabeth stared at Athena in shock as she came to a sickening realisation.

"You wouldn't be here otherwise. You wouldn't have cared enough to fight Zeus so much if there wasn't some other reason." Her voice had deadened and lost all emotion. Athena rose quickly, crossing the room to stand in front of Annabeth. The demigod looked away.

"Annabeth, look at me." Annabeth kept her eyes averted.

"Look at me!" The harshness of Athena's tone caused her to raise her eyes to meet the gaze of the goddess.

"Yes it's true that I wouldn't have been allowed down here if it was just because of you. Yes there are other reasons that I won the argument with my Lord and Father." Annabeth felt something wet slide down her cheek, she was crying.

"But that doesn't mean that I don't care for you Annabeth. You're my daughter, a part of me in every way." Athena's hand rose to Annabeth's cheek and she brushed the tear away.

"I have loved you since the day you were born and I will love you till the day you die." Annabeth almost leant into her touch, into her Mother and the comfort she was offering. But she had been hurt so many times, let down by so many people that she took a step backwards; out of her Mother's reach.

"What other reasons?" Annabeth asked quietly. Her Mother looked pained and stepped forward again. Annabeth backed away further.

"What other reasons? Tell me Mother, please I'm sick and tired of people keeping things from me to _protect_ me, just tell me, _please_." Her voice was raw with emotion and Athena looked at her in resignation.

"You are very special, Daughter. You have a destiny that will change the course of the world. You have a fate."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Fate

As soon as the word 'fate' left her Mother's mouth, Annabeth burst into a sort of hysterical laughter.

"Fate? My fate?" She was crying and laughing at the same time.

"What fate do I have left? What more could I possibly do? I've gone on quests to save the Western hemisphere, several times, I held the sky for three days, I watched a boy who had been my family for years self-destruct and almost cause the end of the world, I helped to stop said boy from destroying the world. My best friend, a good person, who I'm fairly sure, was also the love of my life is dead! What more can I do?" She was shouting now, letting the years of frustration, anger and pain bleed into her voice.

"I can't do this anymore! I've had enough! Besides, I've ticked all the boxes for a demigod's fate right? Love and death, heroism and tragedy; you can't seem to have either without the other." Her speech had turned quiet and bitter. More worry had entered Athena's eyes.

"Annabeth, please, just come to Olympus where the rest of the Gods and I can explain-" Annabeth cut her off.

"No. I don't want anything to do with Olympus, ever again." A faint hint of air caressed the back of her neck and she ducked instinctively. Clarisse's hand extended into the space she had occupied and Annabeth felt anger fill her.

"You were going to knock me out! You were going to let her just take me!" She turned on her heels and faced Clarisse, her hackles rising.

"_I thought you were my friend_." The coldness of her tone made Clarisse's eyes widen in shock. She hadn't ever heard Annabeth sound like that, like she was ready to attack at any second. Clarisse quickly began to try to reason with her friend.

"I am your friend, Princess. You're making a mistake; your Mom isn't the enemy here. You need to go with her, Annabeth. Fate's a serious thing. You can't fight it, you know that." For a moment, anger seemed to thrum through Annabeth's very core at Clarisse's _betrayal_ of her.

"You're not my friend." Annabeth said coolly, regret quickly clawed at her heart as she looked into Clarisse's eyes but she shoved it back down again. This was just another person who had failed her.

Annabeth kept her back to the wall as she edged towards the door. She really didn't trust either of them to watch her back at this moment in time. Her muscles tensed as Clarisse took a step forwards; her fight or flight instinct had come out to play.

Athena, perhaps noticing this, quickly motioned to Clarisse who stopped dead in her tracks; the demigod had always taught her siblings to recognise a commander in battle and on this particular battlefield, Athena was the undisputed commander.

Annabeth stood in front of the door and, reaching her hand behind her blindly, clawed at the doorknob. Athena moved forwards; taking a few measured steps. The door clicked open and the demigod took the smallest step forward possible so she could open it. She was about to turn and run when Athena spoke in a calm voice.

"Annabeth, I need you to stop moving and listen to me." Annabeth gave her an incredulous look.

"Why should I do that? So you can force me into a destiny that I don't want?" Athena looked exasperated for a brief moment.

"Annabeth, destiny will happen. There is nothing anybody can do to change what you will become. I want you to face your destiny with all the help you can get. Please, daughter, come with me so that I can help you." Athena held her hand out and the sincerity in her voice made Annabeth pause. She might have even reached out to take the hand offered to her if something unexpected hadn't happened.

Athena's eyes widened as all of Annabeth's muscles contractedand Annabeth fell to the ground with a short cry of pain. Her hands tried to rise to grip her head as her senses went into overdrive. Extra information bombarded her brain from all of her senses.

She could feel the rough texture of her shirt as one hand gripped it; the other was mapping the whorls in the wood underneath her fingertips as she curled over in pain.

As she gasped for air she could taste the dust in the air and smell the lingering smell of sweat that Clarisse had exuded as she had stormed into the room earlier.

Annabeth heard the two hearts in the room beat faster and the squeak of shoe-soles against the floor as Clarisse and Athena began to move to her side.

Her head jerked back as her muscles released briefly before contracting even more sharply than before.

As her Mother moved in front of her, her eyes picked out the individual strands of material in her Mother's coat. Athena's hands gripped Annabeth's arms and the demigod felt the overwhelming information decrease as her senses were slowly blocked again and the muscle contractions slowed as well. Annabeth curled over and took several more deep breaths. She felt rather than saw Clarisse crouch next to her.

"What was that?" Clarisse asked in a hushed voice, like she was trying not to disturb Annabeth. Athena's hands moved down her daughter's arms, like she was checking for damage.

"It was like her muscles were putting themselves through exercise. I swear her arms look more toned than they did a few minutes ago." Clarisse continued. Annabeth gave a weak laugh; she was just so tired.

"Jealous, LaRue?" Annabeth was too drained to be pissed at Clarisse right then. Her Mother's hands moved back up her arms to help her stand and she gripped onto her Mother tightly. Another spasm went through her leg muscles as she stood up and she would have crumpled to the ground again had Clarisse not grabbed her around the waist. The odd trio stood in front of the door to Annabeth's bedroom for another minute as Annabeth stood there, trying to regain control of her muscles. She released her grip on her Mother and moved away from both the goddess and the demigod that had come to visit her.

She leaned against the wall opposite to them and watched them as she breathed deeply. Clarisse looked worried and Annabeth mentally snorted. Oh yeah, her anger was coming back now. Her Mother did not look worried but Annabeth noticed how her eyes were darting, sweeping over Annabeth several times as she analysed whatever it was she could see. Finally her eyes met Annabeth's once again and Annabeth echoed Clarisse's question.

"Mother, what was that?"

"That was a…backlash, I suppose you would call it." Athena replied.

"A backlash?" Annabeth frowned. From what? She hadn't done much in the past few weeks apart from cry and argue with her father.

"Yes, from a spell that was placed on you." The demigod looked into her Mother's eyes and saw a faint hint of guilt there. Connecting the dots, Annabeth felt her anger return.

"What did you do Mother? What have you done to me?" The anger revitalised her and she peeled her back off the wall to glare at her Mother. Athena held Annabeth's gaze.

"Annabeth, it is vital that you come back to Olympus with me. There are some things that I have to tell you."

"What did you do Mother? It's a simple enough question." Clarisse seemed to be trying to melt into the wall. Annabeth's anger grew again and her muscles started to quiver slightly. Her Mother saw this and spoke quickly.

"Annabeth I need you to calm down. The rest of the Olympians and I put a block on you. When that block broke you experienced the backlash of what we were trying to block fully manifesting itself. I have only placed a temporary block on you, if you don't calm down, you will break it and you will experience the backlash again." Annabeth felt her Mother brush her mind again and a fake feeling of calm was forced upon her. The calm was quickly brushed away by Annabeth as she grew angrier and angrier. Her senses started to take in more and more information. Athena spoke again with a sense of desperation.

"Annabeth please, I need to get you to Olympus before the block is fully fractured again. Please just calm down!" Clarisse groaned as she uttered that final sentence, Annabeth only got angrier when people told her that.

"I AM SICK OF GODS interfering IN MY LIFE! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" Annabeth yelled.

"I can't do that Annabeth!" Athena raised her voice.

"WHY NOT? IT'S NOT LIKE YOU HAVEN'T DONE IT TO SOME OF YOUR OTHER CHILDREN! JUST IGNORE ME, LET ME DIE!"

"I WILL NOT LET YOU DIE!" Athena shouted furiously and lightning flashed outside the house as the storm voiced its agreement with her. Annabeth looked at her in shock; she'd never seen her Mother so angry before. Her Mother had never yelled at her like that before. Her Mother spoke again, visibly trying to calm herself.

"I will not let you die Annabeth. Not when I can prevent it." Annabeth felt guilt worm its way into her stomach. Her Mother began to speak again but the demigod's attention was elsewhere; anywhere but here.

"You have a fate." Annabeth cut her off; she didn't want to hear it. Truthfully she felt a little sick at having made her Mother so angry with her.

"Screw fate." That was all Annabeth said before turning and running down the landing; her eyes started to water. Clarisse tried to grab her but she flew down the stairs and was out of the front door before Clarisse had even reached the bottom of the staircase; it was raining outside and the demigod thanked the fact that it masked her tears. Annabeth ignored the pegasus in the street and just ran. Her muscles stopped quivering as she ran and the pain that seemed to be on the verge of manifesting was beaten back by her running.

So she ran faster, weaving in and out of pedestrians. She didn't bother to stop as a business man fell to the ground, his annoyed squawks reaching her as she turned the corner. She passed Percy's old school, the building Poseidon had pointed out to her, and continued to run through the lashing rain. The storm seemed determined to stop her but Annabeth could feel Clarisse running behind her; gaining on her with every step. Annabeth looked up and frowned. The people ahead of her were…parting? Annabeth screwed her eyes up against the rain and slowed as she tried to see what they were moving around.

Her Mother stood there, arms folded, glaring at her with a look that would melt steel. Annabeth began to panic when she saw Athena, but out of the corner of her eye she saw an escape route. She dived into the side alley that she had spotted and sped down it, her ears catching Clarisse's faint curse as she tried and failed to execute the same manoeuvre. Annabeth burst out onto a busy main road and kept running; bobbing and weaving between the people. The demigod felt her speed lower and her panic began to grow again as she remembered the look on her Mother's face. She shook her head to clear her thoughts; she couldn't let her fear paralyse her. The pedestrians were slowing her down, so when she saw an old cemetery on her right she ducked through the wrought-iron gates and kept moving.

It was a large graveyard; much larger than you would expect from an inner-city burial ground. The necropolis was filled with dark mausoleums, cracked headstones and crossing paths that had tree roots bursting from the ground beneath. Annabeth sped down one such path, and she kept her head down, eyes to the ground, trying to spot the tree roots on the uneven path. Annabeth heard running footsteps behind her, her Mother's footsteps, so she quickly turned right; heading straight towards the centre of the hallowed ground.

In the middle of the cemetery, three paths crossed and as Annabeth was approaching the junction, her Mother stepped out from behind a large mausoleum and stood on the path. Annabeth managed to dodge around her but as Athena turned with her, hands reaching out to grab her, Annabeth tripped over a tree root and went sprawling into the centre of the three paths. Blood dripped from her torn knee. As the blood fell to the crossing point of the three paths, a cold wind lashed at Annabeth causing her to close her eyes; the last thing she saw was her Mother's face, Athena looked horrified.

This, more than anything else, caused the demigod to clench her eyes shut. The cold air scraped along her spine like fingernails down a blackboard, making Annabeth shudder. She heard a dog howling in the distance and felt a being start to approach her. Still, she kept her eyes shut. Her ears picked up the sounds of keys clanking together and footsteps approaching, she could also hear a dog loping along gently.

The wind died down as quickly as it had come. Annabeth opened her eyes and looked up slowly. A mist surrounded them, a thick impenetrable fog. An old woman stood in front of her; there were keys jangling from her waist, a black dog walked along beside her and in her left hand she held a green-flamed torch aloft. Annabeth looked down again and saw her bright blood fade into the mist that covered the floor. She looked up again and felt fear freezing her limbs; there was no sign of her Mother anywhere, wherever 'here' was.

"Hecate." Annabeth's voice cracked in fear as she stared at the goddess in front of her. The old crone chuckled and patted the dog on its head as she came closer until she stood right in front of Annabeth.

"It's nice that you recognise me dearie, as this was a business visit, I thought I'd better look the part." She chuckled again but her dog growled at Annabeth before leaping at her. The dog yelped as it was dragged back by a tendril of fog that had wrapped itself around his tail and Hecate made a 'tsk tsk' noise impatiently under her breath.

"Now, now Peter. What have I told you about leaping at clients?" Peter whined and looked piteously at Hecate who just pulled a doggie treat out of her bag and handed it to him. Annabeth, remembering years of dog training for her family pet, said,

"He'll never learn if you do that." Hecate merely smiled serenely, the green light of the torch deepening her wrinkles and making the shadows of her face more pronounced.

"No, I don't suppose he will dearie." The dog made a choking sound and Annabeth looked at him. A fleck of spit left his mouth and he made the same sound again. The veins around his mouth became more pronounced and his eyes dilated massively. She looked on in horror as the dog continued to choke harder and harder. Soon the spit frothing from his mouth was laced with blood. More and more blood came forth and the dog quickly died. As Annabeth stared in horror at the body, it melted and became the body of a young man; his face frozen in a mask of agony. Hecate made another 'tsking' noise as she turned his body over so he faced the ceiling of their fog bubble.

"Peter was such an arrogant young man; he made a deal with me and thought he could cheat me out of what I was owed. Well, after he went back on his side of the deal, I just thought to myself that his form should reflect his personality, besides, you really can't get the servants these days." Hecate sighed and poked the body of Peter with her foot.

"Still, I had hoped that he would last longer." She turned back to Annabeth and smiled in delight at the look of horror on Annabeth's face.

"Dearie, don't look at me like that! It's just good business. Speaking of which, let's get back to what I came here for!" She clapped her hands together in excitement and a grey throne formed out of the fog behind her as she sat, placing her torch in a holder on the side of her throne. She was facing Annabeth who was still sprawled on the floor. A thought occurred to the demigod.

"Wait, business? I didn't call on you Ma'am." Hecate cackled; a spider scrabbled out from between her lips causing Annabeth to shudder involuntarily. The goddess then pointed towards Annabeth's bloody knee.

"Oh yes you did! How much more specific can you be than spilling blood on a three forked crossroads in a graveyard?" Hecate licked her lips and a droplet of red fog dropped onto her lips. The goddess closed her eyes as if savouring the taste.

"I'd be careful of that though, sweetie; your blood has such a…taste to it. My empousai would go wild for your blood." Hecate spoke in such a dreamy tone that Annabeth was shocked when the goddess opened her eyes again and focused them sharply on the young demigod; Hecate's eyes looked like the eyes of a snake. Annabeth shook herself and spoke again.

"But Ma'am, I did not…wish to call on you. It was an accident. My Mother tried to grab me and I tripped." Hecate placed a look of shock on her face.

"Your Mother tried to grab you?" Annabeth froze as she realised what she had just said and backtracked furiously.

"I mean, I was running from her and she was trying to stop me." Hecate leaned forwards in her throne; her pupils thinning to slits.

"Oh so, you were running from her! What on earth could Athena have done to make such a precious young thing like you run from her? It must have been horrible." The goddess's voice had such a sickly-sweet charm to it that was infuriating Annabeth.

"She didn't do anything!" Annabeth said hotly and Hecate leant back in her throne, raising her hands in a 'calm down' gesture.

"I'm sure she didn't sweetheart. I'm sure she didn't." Hecate's voice slid through Annabeth's mental defences and her reason, causing her to blurt out why Athena had come.

"She didn't! All she told me was that I have a fate!" Annabeth froze and then winced. Hecate smiled, showing a mouthful of rotting, red-stained teeth. Then the goddess spoke again; completely throwing Annabeth off her guard.

"I was so sorry to hear about Perseus. He was a good lad, he helped me escape imprisonment after that mess with the Titan's." Annabeth stared at her in pain then quickly looked at the ground. Why had Hecate brought his name up? The goddess in question smiled victoriously as she saw her prey become addled by grief. Hecate smiled wider as she went for the kill.

"But dear, do you remember everything about the day he died? Hmm? Any memory loss?" Annabeth looked up in surprise.

"I can't remember bits of the day he died. How did you know?" she asked, confused. Hecate chuckled, dust puffing out of her mouth with every exhale of breath.

"Oh, I'm the goddess of magic dear! I can sense when magic is being done. I must say, I was a bit surprised when I felt a power block being placed on you. Especially as it was done over a memory charm! That's why I thought you had called me here, sweetie. I thought that you had noticed that something was wrong." Her tone was insidious and Annabeth felt her head nod, felt her mind agree with Hecate's words.

"Of course, I can remove these spells from you for a price." Annabeth frowned, that didn't sound right. A tendril of fog caressed her head and her doubts just melted away.

"A…a price?" asked Annabeth.

"Yes Dearie. I don't do work for free you know!" Hecate cackled at her own joke before appearing to pause in thought.

"But, because you've got a…fate, and I do owe your boyfriend a debt I shall _sadly_ never be able to repay, how about I also hide you from your Mother and the rest of the Olympians for awhile? Three years ought to do the trick, I think my dear." Annabeth looked up at Hecate, puzzled.

"Why would I want to hide from my Mother? I mean I don't want to go with her, but I can't hurt her like that." Hecate's smile seemed to become rather faked for a moment before she laughed yet again.

"Oh dearie, don't you want to escape from your Mother? After all, she'll only force you to go back to Camp Half-Blood." The fog slipped through Annabeth's hair and she shook her head, trying to concentrate.

"But what's to stop her from making me go back to Olympus anyway? After the three years I mean." Annabeth looked puzzled again.

"Why three years? Why not one year?" The demigod continued to question. Hecate's smile dimmed and she sighed in annoyance.

"Your fate is special sweetie, and once it starts, you'll be under the protection of the Fates themselves. It will start soon my dear, very soon. As for the number three? Well, these things come in threes my dear, hasn't Chiron taught you that?" Annabeth jerked at the sound of Chiron's name and the fog around her sprang into action, cradling her head, slipping through her ear canals until she nodded. She was so dazed by the fog that she couldn't hear a voice shout her name from beyond the misty enclosure.

"Annabeth!" shouted her Mother. Hecate looked in the direction of the shout and cursed; her face twisting into a feral snarl with noticeably longer canines.

"Hecate, damn you, let her go! She's not going to be any part of your plans!" Hecate cackled and turned back to Annabeth; she did oh so love proving that bitch wrong.

"Naturally, Annabeth my dear, this is a once in a lifetime offer. You have to think fast but that shouldn't be a problem for you dear of course. I can only shield us for so long before your Mother comes for you to take you to Olympus; before she comes to take away your freedom." Annabeth shook her head but the fog stayed where it was; creating a ghostly crown of thorns around her head.

"I, I…" Annabeth stuttered. A pounding sound echoed through the enclosure and Hecate almost laughed. Athena was making this too easy. Annabeth threw a terrified look at the edge of the fog where it was thinning considerably and fast.

"Yes! Yes, I accept your offer." Hecate smiled and waved a hand. A bag appeared in front of her. Reaching in, Hecate pulled out a loop of string that had hundreds of rings with thousands of different designs hanging on it. She seemed to be picking through them until she found a small silver ring with an engraving of a tiny golden key.

The goddess stood up and grabbed Annabeth's left hand, placing the ring on her thumb; it was loose at first but the ring warmed and tightened around her thumb. Hecate let the demigod's hand drop downwards and stepped backwards. Annabeth looked at her in shock before her eyes widened. She screamed and fell to the ground. Her limbs twitching in a macabre dance, her hands clawing at her head as the memory of the day of Percy's death flowed through her mind. She managed to look up at Hecate in horror. The goddess just cackled and waved a hand. Annabeth melted into the fog, disappearing, while Hecate sat back down on her throne chuckling.

"Oh yes, that look of betrayal never loses its sweetness," she said. The fog around her dissipated as Athena came thundering in, in full battle dress. Hecate grimaced at the sight of Aegis; Medusa had always been a friend of hers.

"Where is she? Where is my daughter? What have you done Hecate?" demanded Athena; looking around wildly. Hecate laughed at the normally icy cool goddess.

"Oh you just missed her! Don't worry, I'll look after the poor dear. She was _so _confused when I was talking to her." Hecate's hand twitched and a strand of fog curled around it. Athena, noticing the movement, looked at the mist. Understanding dawned and she looked up at Hecate, fury in her eyes.

"You used your insidious mind-altering charm on my daughter?" Athena was glowing; the harsh light evaporating the fog in Hecate's hand in an instant.

"Oh yes, it was really quite easy. I just…twisted the truth and she was mine. In fact, she is mine for three whole years." Hecate cackled again and Athena glared at her.

"Speaking of, I'd better go and tell the poor dear what's what." Hecate stood up and her throne sunk back into the ground, leaving the green-flamed torch floating in mid-air. Hecate grabbed the torch and walked away, disappearing into the last vestiges of the fog. Athena's battledress melted into a grey suit as she stared after the retreating goddess. There was nothing she could do.

A shadow flitted across the graveyard and Clarisse landed Phillip with ease near the crossroads of the graveyard. She was still breathing heavily after running back to get Phillip; Athena had told her to after Annabeth had ducked into the side alley. Clarisse looked around the graveyard and groaned. There was no sign of Athena or Annabeth. Clarisse cursed her luck and approached the crossroads. She saw a dark stain in the centre; it looked scarily like blood. She knelt down and was about to touch the stain to see if it was blood when a hand grabbed hers.

"Do not touch that, Miss LaRue. You will be lost to us as well if you do." Athena said, pulling up the shocked demigod. Clarisse looked at the goddess, taking in her angry appearance, and spoke.

"Lady Athena? Where's Annabeth?" she asked; had it been any other camper, you would've called them vulnerable because of those words. Athena turned towards Clarisse and although she was irate, her body language softened as she addressed the girl who cared about her daughter almost as much as she did.

"She is lost to us, Miss LaRue; lost for three years because of that damned witch Hecate." Athena spat out before breathing in to calm herself.

"I must return to Olympus and talk with my father and the rest of the gods. They may know of something I've overlooked. Return to Camp Half-Blood. If there is a way to save Annabeth, you will find out I promise." Clarisse hesitated again before speaking quickly.

"If there's ever a quest to get Annabeth back; count me in Ma'am," she said before bowing, and quickly mounting Phillip; soaring high into the sky. Athena watched her go and sighed, looking tired.

"Count on it, daughter of Ares, count on it."

On the other side of the country, Annabeth Chase materialised at a cross-roads in a park in L.A. She looked at the ring on her thumb and cried; crying for what she had lost.

**AN: Alright, as you could probably tell, the Slayer was coming out of Annabeth in these chapters. The reason it was so painful for Annabeth, having her slayer powers unblocked, was that pressure had built up. Normally her body would have gradually been changed but because that process had been halted, the change happened quickly and painfully. These chapters also shows the beginning of 'Buffy's' legendary anti-authoritarian streak. I thought that if Annabeth could stand up to a god, like she did to Hera in 'The Battle of the Labyrinth' and to her Mother here, well, mortals like Snyder and Rupert Giles didn't really stand a chance. Any mythological references people are unsure about; please feel free to ask me. **


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Meetings and Explanations

Lady Athena, goddess of Wisdom, Warfare, Divine Intelligence and Crafts, stalked along the marble pathways of Olympus; she was heading straight to the throne room. Many of the minor gods and immortals in her path scrambled to get out of her way. Many of the major gods did the same.

Artemis, who was still on Olympus after the vote, had been checking on her new temple which was designed, of course, by Annabeth. She saw the foul mood her half-sister was in and was astonished; Athena very rarely let her emotions get the best of her. Artemis quickly fell in beside her sister and, noticing the lack of a certain demigod, felt her anxiety increase.

"Where is Annabeth, sister? Did she refuse to come? Is that why she is not here?" asked Artemis, worried for her sister; if anything had happened to Annabeth, Athena would be devastated. The goddess of wisdom did not answer right away, but the way her jaw tightened told the other goddess all she needed to know. The large golden double doors of the throne room came into sight and Athena's stride lengthened. She finally answered Artemis as they were approaching the threshold of the throne room.

"Yes and no sister. I will explain everything once everyone is summoned to the throne room. I would rather only have to go through this once." Athena's tone was curt and Artemis' forehead creased with worry. They entered through the imposing doors and Artemis quickly grew in size to take her seat on the council. Athena walked over to Hestia who was tending the fire, she talked briefly with the goddess of the hearth before Hestia nodded and sent out the summons; she also placed a comforting hand on Athena's arm. Hestia could always tell when someone had been taken from their hearth.

Athena merely nodded to Hestia and then rose to take her seat, her hands clenched tightly on her knees and eyes glaring at the floor. Artemis continued to watch, worried. The other gods quickly filled the hall; they had been expecting the summons. However, they were all confused when there was no sign of the demigod they wished to see. Finally, Lord Zeus cleared his throat and asked Athena,

"Where is your daughter? I thought you were going to bring her here after convincing her to remain at Camp Half-Blood." Athena's hands gripped her knees harder; her knuckles whitening with the force.

"I was going to do exactly that sir, but Hecate got involved. Now, Annabeth is lost to us for three years exactly today, sir." Artemis looked at Athena, sadness in her eyes. Her sister met her gaze and Artemis gave her a weak smile; there wasn't much else she could do.

A stunned silence fell over the room. It was quickly broken by Poseidon.

"You mean Hecate has her? How could you let this happen?" he asked, incensed. Athena's jaw tightened.

"I did not _let_ this happen Uncle. She ran from me and I couldn't catch her before she entered the cemetery." Poseidon was about to speak again but Artemis interrupted him; she did not think that Athena would be able to stop herself if it came to blows, especially after Poseidon had said _that_.

"How could she out run you Athena? Why did she even run in the first place?" The goddess of the hunt hoped this would distract her sister. Athena scowled at Poseidon but answered the questions put forward.

"The memory charm and block we put on her powers fractured. She was emotional and ran. I was not expecting her to use her slayer speed and she surprised me," she sighed suddenly and seemed to grow older and more weary.

"I knew the block wasn't going to hold for long. It was a risky thing to do, we all knew that." The fight seemed to drain out of her and Lord Zeus winced in regret; he should have listened to Athena when she had first started to argue.

"I am sorry daughter. I should have given you permission to retrieve your daughter as soon as she started fighting with her father about returning to Camp Half-Blood." Athena just nodded in acceptance of his stared and stared at the floor at her feet. The other gods also remained silent; if Athena, their main strategist for over a thousand years had lost hope, how could they even begin to believe they could retrieve the missing demigod?

However, Lord Poseidon was fuming. He had made a promise to his dead son, a promise that he would help Annabeth Chase, no matter what. He had become even more set in the idea of helping her when he had learnt that she was now the Slayer. He wasn't about to give up the fight now, before it had barely begun.

"So? There must be some way of forcing Hecate to tell us where she has sent Annabeth, or, or, we can track her down. I'm sure if we all-" Lady Athena cut him off.

"You know as well as I do Uncle that Hecate is adept at hiding from us. Last time we tried to track her down, it took us a decade." Artemis nodded; she remembered that hunt all too well, she had lost ten huntresses by the time it had run its course. Poseidon made to speak again but she waved a hand at him and continued speaking.

"The same goes for trying to find Annabeth; Hecate will have hidden her well and short of manually searching every inch of this globe filled with over six billion people, well, it would be better to wait for Hecate's deal with Annabeth to be finished." Athena's dejected pose had faded somewhat but she still looked downtrodden. Ares had rather wisely kept his mouth shut; he knew that in this state Athena wouldn't stop at just beating him up if it came to a fight and he kind of wanted to be able to sire more demigods in the future.

"What about asking the other pantheons for help?" asked Poseidon. Every god in the room stared at him in shock before bursting out with angry words; a thunderstorm of apocalyptic proportions shook Olympus to its roots as they yelled.

"Are you mad?"

"Idiot of a god!"

"They hate us!"

"We can't seem weak to them!"

A barrage of lightning silenced the assembled Olympians and they turned to look at Zeus. The king of the gods turned to Poseidon.

"You know the reasons why we can't ask them for help brother." He sounded impatient.

"But this affects them too! The first demigod slayer since the First Slayer! Annabeth is not just our champion now; she's theirs too." Poseidon argued. Athena sighed and rubbed her forehead before interjecting into their brief argument.

"We don't know that for sure, Uncle. We only suspect it. Besides the other pantheons won't care about our problem, you know that. The Egyptians are in the middle of a war, the Norse are too busy carousing and drinking their way through eternity and all of the other pantheons and gods just won't care. We have to do this on our own and we have already interfered too much. Wherever my daughter is, she's on her own until the end of the deal."

"So you're just going to give up? That's it?" yelled Poseidon and got up from his throne.

"I've always thought you were cold woman, but not cold enough to just give up on your so-called favourite daughter." Athena glared at him and stalked over to him. They stood toe to toe, eye to eye; matching glares and clenched fists. The family resemblance was striking and Ares snickered quietly in the background; maybe he'd get a good show out of this after all.

"I am not giving up on my daughter but there is nothing else I can do! Hecate has the upper hand in this. We can not win this fight!" Athena took in a deep breath and eased her body into a more relaxed pose.

"We must wait the three years Uncle. I don't like it either but we must wait, or Hecate may take out any punishment we give her on Annabeth." Athena turned and walked towards the doors of Olympus, decreasing to human size as she walked.

"She may be dead in three years." Poseidon called after her. Athena stopped and turned around.

"I know." She stated and in her eyes, Poseidon saw a depth of grief he had thought her incapable of. Athena turned again and walked out to her palace, leaving the god of the sea staring after her in half-remembered pain; the grief he had seen in her eyes mirrored his own at the loss of his son.

Far below the lofty heights of Olympus in Camp Half-Blood, Clarisse LaRue landed her pegasus, Phillip, and stabled him quickly. Her mind was working on the current problem that faced her: Annabeth was lost for three years. Three whole years. Clarisse thought grimly that she should have just knocked her out when she had the chance, before Annabeth had gotten super powers. She had followed Annabeth from above using Phillip and damn, she didn't know Annabeth could move that fast; if she had known, Capture the Flag would have gone a lot differently. She shook her head and hung up the saddle and the tack.

She knew that Annabeth's collapse and level-up had had something to do with why Lady Athena had turned up in person. Demigods don't just start exhibiting unnatural gifts and when a god shows up to talk to you in person, well; this daughter of Ares could join the dots together.

Clarisse sighed and gave Phillip a last brush before exiting the stable. Damn, sometimes she really hated destiny. Especially when it took a friend from her, especially now that it had taken Annabeth, after all she had been through. She walked towards her cabin and entered, heading over to her bunk and sitting down. She pulled out her sword and looked at her reflection in its blade before nodding to herself and sheathing it again. One thing was certain though, in three years time, she was going to kick Annabeth's ass for saying that she didn't care.

Across the country, Annabeth fell to her knees as the full force of her hidden memories hit her. She remembered the moment Percy fell, the reason why she didn't reach out. Something had happened to her. Something beyond words, something old had touched her mind and body and become something new. This feeling of something ancient had hummed in her bones, stroked her mind and altered her destiny forever. She knew it as soon as it had touched her and somewhere deep in her analytical mind, Annabeth had realised that this was beyond logic, beyond reason.

She had been called.

Called like the girls in the dreams she had when she was younger. Annabeth had never told anybody about these dreams because she knew that they weren't like the other demigod dreams. Those dreams had always unnerved her, filled her mind with the images of girls dying, fighting monsters. A child of Hypnos who lived in Cabin 11 had always given her funny looks after she had had those dreams but she'd never questioned him about it, she'd been afraid of what he'd say. Her head dipped down, she wondered, where there other girls dreaming about her now? Would they see her die? Who would be called after her? Annabeth was sure that was the word, called.

She had been Called. Strength had filled her, her body began to change and the unerring knowledge that she, Annabeth Chase, was meant for something had filled her mind.

This moment passed, altogether too quickly for Annabeth but far too slowly for Percy, she now reflected. She had laughed after Percy had fallen into the water, not because he was a seaweed brain (although he really was) but because she had been euphoric. She had felt powerful and that fatal flaw of hers had revelled in the feeling of power humming through her veins.

Still, she had been far too slow. Even though she had moved down to the basement with all of her new-found speed when she first realised something was genuinely wrong, she hadn't been fast enough. Sure, she had been strong enough to pull him from the cellar and carry him outside but at the end of the day, Annabeth knew that she would always have to live with the knowledge that she hadn't been fast enough to save the person that mattered most to her in the world. The demigod recalled Poseidon's words and she wondered briefly if that's why Poseidon had talked to her, told her that it wasn't her fault; had he known what she had become? Not that it mattered now that she was on the other side of the country. Not that it mattered anyway really.

She was the reason Percy had died.

That was why she had screamed that horrible wail, she remembered. Her Calling was forever tainted by the fact that she hadn't been fast enough to save the person who mattered most to her in the world.

Mother knew she had been Called. Mother had known the moment she had set eyes on Annabeth. Annabeth had seen the horror in her eyes and felt her fear through the tight grip she had on Annabeth as she carried her home.

Huh.

Guess people with her kind of Calling didn't get a happily-ever-after then? Not that Annabeth had cared all that much then which is why her Mother had blocked off her memories and her powers from her, Annabeth remembered. She had said to Annabeth that 'it was for her own good' and 'she'd let her remember soon'.

Well, the first was a lie and the second was also a lie. Mother hadn't let Annabeth remember anything. It had broken through the barriers by itself and, Annabeth was slightly bitter about this, she would have remembered by herself; without Hecate's _help_. Anger filled her and she stood up. Rage thrummed through every pore of her skin which is why when Hecate materialised in the park, Annabeth leapt at her, perfectly happy to do 'some serious damage' as Clarisse would have said.

However, things didn't go quite according to her plan.

Annabeth felt a mind-numbing pain grip her brain and she fell to the ground, writhing. Hecate laughed; she seemed to really like doing that, a small part of Annabeth noted.

"Come on, Dearie, up you get. That was only a small amount of pain and you shouldn't have too many side effects." The pain faded and Annabeth sat up, glaring at Hecate. She was almost about to leap again when she felt unseen chains bind her and drag her up from the floor. Hecate moved off and the chains dangling Annabeth in mid-air followed. Annabeth kept on struggling but another part of her, the ADHD part, took in their surroundings and where they were going. She recognised the park; she had been here when she and her father had last visited Aunt Joyce. A lifetime ago, Annabeth reflected silently. As they left the park boundaries, Hecate felt the need to speak again.

"Well, Dearie, I bet you're wondering why I've brought you to Los Angeles, aren't you?" Her tone was condescending and Annabeth's hackles rose; not only had this witch taken her from her family, now she was talking down to Annabeth?

"Not really. You've decided to go with the weaker strategy of hiding me in plain sight with my Aunt and essentially putting one over the Gods. I thought gods were meant to be above clichés and actually have originality?" Annabeth replied, irritation clear in her voice. Hecate glared at her and the crevices in her face seemed to deepen while her purple eyes darkened to an almost black shade.

"You are just like your Mother, you know that? Still…" She grinned suddenly.

"A deal is a deal." They kept moving and soon Annabeth recognised her Aunt's street. They stopped outside of Joyce's house and Hecate waved a hand, the unseen chains holding Annabeth disappeared and she fell to the ground, landing gracefully on her feet.

Hecate clicked her fingers and a mirror appeared in front of Annabeth. She looked into it and was surprised to see a stranger looking back at her. The stranger had brunette hair while the upper layers of her hair had been dyed blond; Annabeth looked hard at the image and realised that her facial features were roughly the same as the image's but her grey eyes had been substituted for hazel eyes.

"This is what you look like now Dearie. I wouldn't put it past your Mother to come looking for you here, she can be such a pain sometimes, so if she does, all she will see is Buffy Anne Summers, cousin to Annabeth Eliza Chase." Hecate waved her hand again and the mirror melted into the pavement. Annabeth staggered as the weight of new memories crashed through her mind. She remembered being eight and going to the beach with her Mom, they'd had ice cream but hers had melted all down the front of a pink top she was wearing and she'd been so scared about messing it up but her Mom had just laughed. No, no, that wasn't her true memory. Annabeth shook her head. On that day she had been at Camp Half-Blood and Luke had taught her how to use her dagger in a fight against someone with a sword and win. The two sets of memories warred against each other for a few seconds before settling down. Annabeth looked at Hecate who was smiling.

"False memories have also been implanted in your Aunt and Uncle, or should I say Mom and Dad?" Hecate chuckled.

"Have fun in L.A Buffy Summers. Forget about Annabeth Chase, you're not her anymore." Hecate dissolved into mist and Buffy Summers was left standing outside her home, unhappy and alone.

On Olympus, Athena was unknowingly mirroring her lost daughter's pose. She was in her palace, staring out over the skyline of New York from the balcony by her study. The doors to her study opened, admitting a frequent visitor to her inner sanctum. Athena didn't turn around as the doors closed softly. She knew who it was. A hand squeezed her arm gently and a warm presence stood beside her, offering comfort and understanding.

"Sometimes I think I should have followed your example sister and had immortal followers instead of children." Athena said with a small laugh, turning to Artemis who stood beside her. Her burst of humour quickly faded as she looked at her sister.

"I apologise for how brisk I was with you earlier, Artemis. It was terribly rude of me; I hope you can forgive me." Artemis smiled at Athena.

"It is quite alright Athena. I understand that you were upset over your daughter's abduction."

"Abduction? I don't think it can be completely classified as that." Artemis frowned.

"What do you mean, Athena? What else could it have been?" Athena looked at her and the goddess of the hunt was surprised to see the pain in her eyes.

"Annabeth made the deal. She was not forced into this completely against her will." Athena's hand reached up to squeeze the hand that was placed on her arm.

"She thought that I did not care about her, you know. My most…" Athena corrected herself quickly.

"My daughter thought that I did not love her." She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes. Artemis paused before removing her hand from the goddess's grip and reaching around the goddess of wisdom to give her a sort of half-hug.

"How could she think that?" Athena whispered.

"She didn't." Artemis replied quietly. Athena snorted in disbelief. Artemis continued to speak.

"No, don't laugh. She really didn't. She may have thought it for a second but deep down, your daughter knows that you love her because she loves you just as much."

"How could you tell?" Artemis laughed then; she laughed at the absurdity of the question and the situation as a whole.

"Because I could see it of course! Forsaking all romantic love made me appreciate the bonds of family, it gifted me with an insight that I do not think I could have gained otherwise. Believe me when I say that I could see that your daughter loved you very much. Many of us were jealous."

"Jealous?" Artemis laughed again at the puzzled look on Athena's face before pulling her away from the balcony and through the doors back to the study. She guided Athena to a sofa as she answered.

"Yes, jealous. For a goddess of divine intelligence, your reasoning skills are sometimes lacking." Athena shot her a look and Artemis's lips twitched as she stopped her laughter.

"Many demigods see their Olympian parent as the god or goddess they are. Surely you remember Antaeus, the original Perseus and Bellerophon?" The goddess of wisdom nodded as she remembered those demigods.

"Annabeth does not see you as a goddess, she sees you as her Mother and she loves you because of that, not the power you wield. That reason is why she is your favourite daughter." Athena opened her mouth to protest but Artemis silenced her by shaking her head.

"Oh, don't deny it. You know it's true. It's true for all of us in some ways." Artemis looked sadder as she continued.

"That reason is why Poseidon helped his son so many times, why Ares asks Hephaestus to make his daughter that ridiculous electric spear over and over again, why our Lord and Father summoned me to Olympus just last week to ask what I thought our little sister, Thalia, would like as a present." Artemis stopped suddenly and Athena, sensing her sister's distress, finished her argument for her.

"And that is the reason why you placed Zoe amongst the stars, is it not sister?" Artemis gave her sister a bittersweet smile before continuing to speak.

"All of the demigods may be our followers, but only a few are really our children. My followers, the hunters, may not be my children by blood but they are mine, just as Annabeth is yours." They sat together, lost in memories, before Athena turned to her sister.

"Will you help me find her, sister? I know I said earlier that we could really only wait but I have to try."

"Of course I will Athena. Besides, do you really think that Thalia will let me do anything else?" The two goddesses laughed before beginning to make plans to track down their lost family member.

**AN: Okay, from now on, Annabeth will be referred to as Buffy except for a few moments here and there. Buffy hasn't forgotten who she really is, but she feels things are complicated enough without remembering her days as a demigod. Athena will appear later on and Buffy may return to a few places in L.A that she and Percy visited on their first quest. The council and Buffy's first watcher, Merrick, will appear in the next chapter or the one after. **


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: Meet the Parents

Annabeth stood outside of her Aunt's home for a few seconds before slowly walking up the driveway and pulling out the house keys in her pocket. The keys were attached to a fuzzy pink mini stiletto. She gave the key ring a look of pure distaste and briefly considered throwing it into the bushes. Shaking her head in resignation, she unlocked the front door and walked inside; shutting the door gently behind her. The smell of lasagne wafted her way from the kitchen. Annabeth leaned back against the front door and took a deep breath, her hand moved to grip the doorknob behind her as she heard Joyce Summers' voice ring out.

"Buffy, is that you?" Annabeth opened her mouth to answer but she couldn't form the words.

"Buffy? Honey, are you okay?" Joyce Summers appeared in the doorway of the living room. Annabeth gave her a weak smile.

"Yes. I mean, yeah, I'm fine…Mom." Annabeth moved away from the door and wrung her hands. Her…Mom looked confused.

"Was Jennifer alright, sweetie? I know her mother told me that she's still upset about her broken leg and not being able to try out for cheerleading." Annabeth looked at her blankly for a few seconds. Her eyes widened as the memory flashed across her mind and she spoke quickly to cover the pause.

"Oh, uh, Jennifer. Right, um, yeah, she's still unhappy about that." They both stood in silence. Joyce smiled weakly at her daughter. There was something…off about Buffy. Before she could think any more about her daughter's strange behaviour, a car door slammed shut outside. Hank Summers opened the front door, just missing Buffy as she jumped out of the way. He looked at her in surprise for a moment before shaking his head.

"Sorry my little Buff-buff. I didn't see you there." Annabeth mentally gagged at the pet name but she managed to smile weakly at Hank. A silence descended and the demigod fidgeted slightly before quickly saying,

"I'm just going to go up to my room Mom, you know, um, look at my textbooks, stuff like that." Joyce laughed.

"Are you sure you're alright honey? Normally I have to threaten your wardrobe before you do work." Annabeth laughed faintly before bolting up the stairs. She stopped just out of sight and leaned against the wall; her hand reaching out to steady herself on the cool walls. As she stood on the landing, she looked around at the family photos that adorned the walls.

Buffy and Hank. Buffy and Joyce. Buffy, Joyce and Hank. Buffy's various birthday parties. Buffy first learning to walk. They seemed like a perfect family; Norman Rockwell's Thanksgiving brought to life. Annabeth moved down the landing, heading towards her room. She stopped at a picture of her eight birthday party. It was a fake and Annabeth knew that, she did. On her eighth birthday, she had been at Camp Half-Blood, still desperately grieving for Thalia while Luke was already beginning to pull away. She reached up to trace the happy, smiling face of her new younger self. All of this was fake, she had to remember that. Her eyes hardened and her hand fell from the photo. Annabeth shook her head and turned to her door, pushing it open lightly with the tip of her foot. It yawned open and Annabeth shuddered at the sight in front of her.

Her room was…perfect, if you were a Malibu beach Barbie. Pastel pink walls surrounded a double bed that had a canopy attached to it. A large wardrobe filled with clothes stood in one corner and a white wood desk was in another. Posters of various boy-bands littered the walls and a cheerleading outfit hung over the back of a chair.

"I guess this is home," she muttered, eyeing the cheerleading outfit like a starving man who has been handed a laxative. Joyce called up the stairs for her to come down for dinner. Annabeth sighed and left the room. As she walked past the picture-perfect family on the walls, she quickened her pace; their eyes seemed almost accusing in the dim light of the landing.

* * *

><p>The white modern kitchen was very different to what Annabeth was used to. It was all sleek surfaces and smooth lines; a kitchen you might find in an open house. Joyce Summers was humming faintly a she tossed the salad and Hank was still on a roll about the state of L.A traffic. Annabeth rolled her eyes as he began to insult the other drivers and glanced at Joyce, half-expecting her to roll her eyes and laugh it off. But all Mrs Summers did was nod in her husband's direction and keep humming the faint tune that Annabeth couldn't quite place. Hank glanced her way and his monologue halted whilst a bright smile lit up his face.<p>

"Hey Princess, how are you sweetie?" Annabeth looked at his happy face and felt a small amount of guilt at her previous judgement of him.

"Uh, I'm fine Dad." She moved to take her place at the table and as she brushed past Joyce, her aunt quickly tucked a lock of hair behind the young girl's ear and gave her face a motherly pat.

"Good…good. Say, sweetie, have you met Amber yet?" Annabeth looked at him and frowned slightly, his voice had gained a rather unsettling note to it.

"Amber? Uh, who's Amber?" Hank's smile became somewhat plastic.

"Amber Jones? Daughter of my boss? Remember sweetie, you were going to introduce yourself at cheerleading practice?" Joyce began to serve the lasagne as her husband and Annabeth locked eyes. The young demigod immediately stamped down her previous feeling of guilt and returned to her previous judgement of her new 'daddy'.

"Sorry Dad, it slipped my mind, what with Jennifer's accident and all." She shrugged and began to eat her food. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his knuckles pale faintly as his hand clenched. Meanwhile, Mrs Summers had begun to eat the lasagne too, still managing to faintly hum the song between bites.

"Of course Buffy, but could you please introduce yourself to Amber soon? From what Mr Jones has said about her, I think you two would be really great friends." Annabeth could practically hear the mental 'or else' clause to this conversation and a familiar feeling filled her; standing up to this man was _nothing _compared to arguing with her mo-…with Ath-…with her _biological _mother. The edge of her lip curled up slightly as she replied.

"Sorry Dad, but I don't think I'll be able to. I mean, Jennifer's accident got me thinking about what a dangerous sport cheerleading really is, you know, putting me in touch with my mortality and all that kinda stuff." She looked up, straight-faced and wide-eyed. Hank Summers eyes narrowed like he was trying to ferret out some type of treason on her part. Annabeth shrugged and smiled at him before turning back to her food which she was surprised to see that she'd eaten over half of. Just as she was mentally debating the option of sneaking seconds, Hank cut across her mental musing.

"Well that's very grown up of you sweetie but I think you should stay on the team. After all, aren't all your friends on it? Won't you feel left out if you don't stay?" Annabeth hastily swallowed a snigger; master manipulator this man was not. She looked up again from her food, still wide-eyed.

"But Jennifer's not on the team and she's one of my friends who is probably feeling left out." There was a period of silence that was broken only by Joyce's humming. Hank snapped.

"Damn it Joyce! Will you stop humming that stupid song? And as for you little lady, you are staying on the cheerleading team and that's final!" His chest was puffed out in a display of dominance as his loud voice ripped the silence to shreds. Joyce Summers seemed to come out of whatever world she had been in and her eyes fixed on Hank's red face. The silence that fell then seemed to last a lifetime. Eventually, Joyce spoke.

"Listen to your father Buffy." Annabeth looked at her in a sort of hurt surprise.

"What? But Mom!"

"Go to your room Buffy. We can talk about this tomorrow." Joyce said calmly. Annabeth stared at her before standing up and walking out of the room. As she climbed the stairs, she heard Hank commenting to Joyce that her behaviour was terrible. The young demigod swallowed the bitter taste of bile at the back of her throat as Joyce agreed. Her back was stiff as she took long measured steps to her room.

She opened her door and walked through it, shutting it behind her gently. She'd made a miscalculation tonight. She'd trusted her aunt to side with whom she believed was her daughter and she had pissed Hank off before she had correctly gauged the situation.

Annabeth had let her own personal feelings corrupt the situation even more than it was already. Yeah, Hank Summers was a tool in all respects, but she hadn't behaved much better by deliberately baiting him like that. The young demigod sighed and accepted her temporary defeat. A faint pang of homesickness filled her as she thought about her real dad, Frederick Chase, who for all of his faults (and Annabeth could name quite a few) was still a better man than the one who was currently trying to take his place downstairs. She shook her head slightly and moved to her desk, grabbing a pen and some paper on the way. Getting into fights every night was not going to make Hecate happy, especially since it was such a departure from 'Buffy's' previous behaviour. Annabeth sat down and put pen to paper.

She had to come up with a plan for dealing with her new family. After all, Athena always has a plan.

* * *

><p>Frederick Chase sat in his study. The twins were in their rooms and his wife had long been in bed. It wasn't all that unusual for the professor to stay up till the early hours working but tonight, his left hand was gripping a glass of Scotch and he was staring resolutely into space. He took a gulp of the alcohol and his face twisted slightly at the taste. He had never been much of a drinker. In college he had been too busy studying and after Annabeth had appeared, he had been too busy working. Anger twisted through him and he placed the glass deliberately down onto the desk so that he didn't throw it.<p>

_Working_. He snorted. Oh yes, he'd been so busy working, that he had driven his daughter away forever. His habits hadn't even changed all that much after she had returned; he was still a workaholic. Maybe that was why she had wanted to leave? His only daughter had wanted to go because she had no connection with her mortal family. He grabbed his drink and took a violent swig of the caramel liquid. His hands were clawed around the glass as he sank deeper into his chair. His daughter was gone.

And she wasn't coming back.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: Hero to Zero

The light filtered through the curtains as the alarm clock squawked incessantly. Annabeth reached out a hand and slammed it down on the offending item. The clock emitted a strange screech and Annabeth looked up. The sides of the alarm had fallen off and it looked like it had been flattened with a hammer. She groaned and put her head back down onto the pillow; it was way too early for this.

A few minutes later, a smell began to seep into her room. Her nose twitched. She lifted up her head curiously and sniffed; the smell was light, airy with a mixture of a meat of some sort? She sat up fully and smiled before stumbling around the room in her haste and putting on her clothes automatically. Gods, she was hungry! As her stomach twisted, Annabeth felt faintly guilty at doing something so normal after Percy was gone. Sighing, shaking her head, she ran a brush through her hair and, upon seeing the small temple of make-up in the bathroom (a subtle hint left by Hecate no doubt); she grudgingly applied some light foundation before bounding out of the door and down the stairs, her guilt firmly shoved down into a deep dark corner of her soul. Her feet made no sound as padded with soft, quick steps into the kitchen. She smiled as she saw the stack of pancakes and bacon Joyce had made; she'd been right about the food.

After a hurried breakfast, Hank was running around like a headless chicken trying to find a very important piece of paper that could apparently make or break his career, Annabeth was dropped off at Hemery High School by Joyce Summers. The main building of the high school was grand but, cheap in Annabeth's opinion. There wasn't any history to it and it just looked like a bad copy to her; although she would be the first to admit that she was a bit of a purist when it came to architecture.

She gazed up at the building which looked like the Town hall in 'Back to the Future'. Percy had made her watch it before…She closed her eyes and pushed away thoughts of him. The riotous noise of streams of students talking and laughing in the summer sun as they entered the building echoed almost in her ears; they sounded happy and carefree. Annabeth thought she might have a problem with behaving like that. However the ring on her thumb warmed slightly hotter than was usual and she thrust down her fears; Hecate would be watching her today. Suddenly someone bashed into her and Annabeth's eyes snapped open to see a boy with lank brown hair in a black leather jacket brush past her. Her fake memories reared upwards in her vulnerable state and she instinctively snapped.

"Watch where you're going, Oliver!" Annabeth closed her mouth quickly, shocked at the venom in her voice. The boy, Oliver, stopped and turned around slowly. The demigod immediately began analysing him. He wasn't tanned like most of the LA people she'd seen, he stood out in this school because of his ragged clothes and mostly he gave off the aura of misfit. Annabeth could sympathise. However there was darkness in his eyes that made her retract any kind feelings towards him, she had a feeling that he wouldn't appreciate it.

"I'm so sorry, your majesty. Please forgive me." His voice was cruel and mocking and the boy by him, Benny Jacks if Hecate's memory implant worked correctly, laughed in a hyena-like fashion. Annabeth looked at him and saw the darkness retreat in his eyes and flash of regret appear. So not a complete lost cause then, she mused.

"Well since you say it so nicely, I'll let you off just this once." Annabeth hadn't had to reach down deeply for the bitchiness. She was strangely okay with that. Pike frowned slightly and the ring on her finger warmed again. Oh, yeah. She had to be bitchy but in character as _Buffy_.

"Anyway, don't you have somewhere to be? Like drinking with Benny in the park like you normally are?" Annabeth recovered quickly and the surprise faded from Pike's face. He retorted quickly.

"You just don't know how to have fun Summers, cause of that stick stuffed up your ass." Pike turned and left, Benny running after him. The young demigod watched him go and sighed before turning back to the object of her misery; Hemery High School.

This was her freshman year and she was already ruling her year with a pair of iron stilettos. Apparently 'Buffy' was popular enough that nobody had tried a coup since middle school which she had dealt with ruthlessly; the main instigators were still social outcasts. Annabeth sighed again. She was also on the Cheerleading Team which she disliked for the reason that she didn't particularly care about whether sport's crowds were 'cheery' or not. The daughter of Athena looked up at the grand façade of her new school and grimaced. She had a feeling this day was going to suck.

…

Annabeth limped in through the door and dropped her bags heavily on the ground. She hadn't been wrong in her prediction. School had been mind-numbingly boring because she had to act like an idiot, why did she have to be a stereotypical blonde cheerleader? Couldn't she have been an all-rounder?

The demigod shook her head and limped towards the kitchen. Not that being a physical perfectionist had helped; she'd still been dropped from the top of the pyramid. Probably because having the memories of a cheerleader and actually being a cheerleader were actually quite different. Still, at least the incident had given Annabeth more information to build up a picture of what she was becoming; she'd been dropped from at least three metres and in an awkward position, she should have broken something, she would have broken something a year ago.

After school though she'd had to walk home and her leg was beginning to feel the strain. Annabeth knew from her fake memories that Joyce usually picked her up after practice but a note had been delivered from the school office. Joyce Summers couldn't pick her up today. Annabeth had been worried, even though she was still annoyed with the woman because of her reaction to Hank's words the previous night.

"Mom? You home?" she called out, walking towards the kitchen. Her….relative should be in there and Annabeth just wanted to make sure she was okay before taking a long warm bath to ease the muscles in her leg.

"I'm in the kitchen dear!" replied Joyce, her voice wavering as though she was crying, and Annabeth frowned. She ignored the strain in her leg and burst into the kitchen. The sight that greeted her caused her to freeze on the spot. Thalia and an older, but recognisable, version of Artemis were standing in the kitchen whilst Joyce Summers looked as though the world had fallen down around her ears. The young demigod could understand the feeling all too well. She mentally prepared herself and rushed over to her Mom.

"Mom! Mom, what's wrong?" She allowed the franticness she had felt when she saw Thalia leak into her voice. Mrs Summers smiled weakly and out of Annabeth's periphery vision, she saw Artemis and Thalia retreat a few steps.

"I have some bad news for you sweetheart," Annabeth's worry increased and her mind cast back to how tired her dad, Frederick Chase, had looked when she last saw him, "your cousin, Annabeth has disappeared." Annabeth froze again but not because of the shock, she felt a lot like Tom Sawyer must have felt when he went to his own funeral. The grim thought stuck in her mind. Would she have to go to her own funeral? And see her Dad and her Mom and Clarisse grieve her? _Gods I hope not_, she thought. "I know this must be a shock for you sweetheart but," Annabeth interrupted her.

"When, um when did she…go?" Joyce frowned at the question but Artemis answered her.

"Two days ago but she has access to a considerable…resource and she had mentioned coming to LA before." Annabeth turned to the goddess, and feeling rather sick, spoke again.

"Um, uh, no offense lady but who are you? And why are you here? Shouldn't the police be investigating this?" She saw Thalia's electric blue eyes narrow in suspicion and she winced mentally. Was she too put together? Should she be crying? Artemis didn't show any indication of her mood on her face but Annabeth noted her hands clench slightly.

"I am Annabeth's aunt on her biological mother's side, Thalia is my younger sister. We came here because we were hoping to find her here with family; she hasn't been missing long enough for the police to be involved." Her voice had a sharp edge to it. Ah, she hadn't been outwardly upset enough. Although hearing Lady Artemis claim her as a niece was saddening on many levels; Lady Artemis was upset enough to help her Mother, then Annabeth couldn't help but worry about Athena. _Why did I make that stupid deal?_ Her mind roared like a wounded animal and it wasn't too much effort for her to make her face crumple with grief. Annabeth turned her face away, eyes wet, from Artemis and her piercing eyes and gently placed a hand on her Mom's shoulder.

"I, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have leapt down your throat like that. Mom?" Joyce Summers looked up into her face, and Annabeth could see the worry that made her heart clench there.

"I'm just going to check my email. Maybe she's sent something." Annabeth squeezed her Mom's shoulder, gave her a watery smile before brushing past Thalia as she left the kitchen.

Grabbing her bags from the hallway she rushed up the stairs, her leg throbbing with pain. It was easier to focus on that pain than her internal pain. How could she have been so blind? She hadn't fully realised the consequences of her actions before. Oh Gods, would they ever forgive her for this?

Annabeth opened the door to her room and shut it behind her quietly so as not to disturb the guests downstairs. She dumped the bags on the floor and turned on her computer before sitting down on the edge of the bed and placing her head in her hands. The room was deathly quiet. She could hear her heartbeat and the steady thud-thud in her ears. She breathed in deeply and the smell of old perfume mixed with dust filled her nostrils. The room didn't smell like it was hers. Her stomach roiled and she hunched over, trying hard not to be sick.

Thalia, her best friend, was downstairs. She couldn't speak to her though; she couldn't tell her what had happened. Thalia was never going to forgive her for this. The ring on her finger warmed and Annabeth took it as the warning it was. Why had she made that deal? Suddenly she heard light footsteps on the stairs and her head snapped up as Artemis came bursting through the door. The ring lost its warmth in a heartbeat and Annabeth hid it in a closed fist as the Olympian viewed the room suspiciously.

"Yeah, can I help you?" She asked, a bit bitchy, but the underlying meanness was mitigated by her voice; she definitely sounded like she'd been crying. Lady Artemis' stance went from fighting ready to in control very smoothly. She stepped further into the room and Annabeth could see her eyes darting around, looking for something. The young demigod tightened her grip on the ring; she had a feeling she knew what the goddess was looking for.

"I'm sorry, I just wondered if you had an email from Annabeth yet?" Her face was guileless but Annabeth still allowed a look of suspicion to flash across her face. Just accepting Artemis' arrival would be too oblivious even for the mortal she was supposed to be.

"No, no I haven't." Artemis was still checking out the room so Annabeth decided to give her a few more moments to look around.

"Were you close to Annabeth? She never really talks about her bio-mom's family." The goddess was still obviously distracted but she answered as she scanned the room.

"I knew of her and her Mother speaks of her often to me but I only met her in person for a few days about a year and a half ago. Thalia is much closer to Annabeth than I." Finally, Artemis relaxed, well as much as a goddess of the Hunt ever did, and fixed her piercing eyes on Annabeth; the young demigod felt another wave of guilt.

"However, I do care for her. She is a member of my family and I will help with the search for as long as I am able." The daughter of Athena tried not to wince, that comment was like someone twisting a knife in her gut. Artemis turned to leave and Annabeth spoke up without thinking.

"Um, when you find her, can you tell her something from me?" Lady Artemis paused and Annabeth continued, rushing her words.

"Please, please tell her that what she did was wrong and that she will be sorry about it in the years to come. I know it doesn't make any sense and sounds really harsh but she'll get it. It was based on a conversation we had, um, recently." The goddess of the Hunt faced her again and Annabeth froze, half fearful and half hoping, there was something searching in those eyes. Whatever it was faded and Artemis nodded before leaving. Annabeth heard her walk down the stairs, she heard the farewells exchanged and finally she heard the door close with a very definite click. She placed her head back in her hands and began to cry, not loud sobs but small, grief-filled tears. Why had she made that deal?

...

Lady Artemis and Thalia were walking away from the Summers' home. The daughter of Zeus looked over at her Mistress. The goddess of the Hunt looked…well…demoralised if Thalia had to pick a word. Her look couldn't only have been to do with the news they had delivered. Joyce Summers had been heartbroken and Buffy (Mrs Summers went down in Thalia's estimation for choosing a name like that) had been upset as well. The way the younger Summers had behaved rang faint bells in Thalia's mind but she didn't know why. She sighed out loud and her head drooped. Maybe Lady Artemis wasn't the only one feeling demoralised.

"There was something strange about that girl." Artemis said suddenly. Thalia's head jerked up as she turned it to look at her Mistress.

"Strange, Ma'am?" Artemis' stride lengthened and Thalia hurried so she could keep up.

"Yes. Strange. I thought for a second that I felt…" the goddess shook and her head and exhaled slightly more noisily than normal, "perhaps I am growing old, for there was no evidence for what I felt."

"What was it you could feel my lady?" The daughter of Zeus asked, intrigued. Artemis stopped suddenly and looked back in the direction of the Summers' house, but her eyes seemed to stare far beyond that small plot of land. The goddess turned back to Thalia, her eyes worn and tired.

"It was nothing, Lieutenant. It was nothing."

**AN: Sorry for the long wait…but enjoy?**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: The Council of Watchers

Hecate had yet to visit. Annabeth knew she was being watched though. Her ring warmed on occasion and there was a prickling on the back of neck that was always accompanied by the scent of burned herbs. But the goddess herself hadn't made an appearance and the tension was starting to wind Annabeth up like wire being twisted into a spring.

It also didn't help that apparently Lady Artemis had either been interested enough, or suspicious enough, to set her Hunters loose in Los Angeles. The daughter of Athena had grown accustomed to catching sight of silver jackets out of the corner of her eye; she suspected that had they known that they were tailing a demigod, she wouldn't even have seen that. The Hunters had become a constant guard and although Annabeth appreciated the reasoning behind their stalking, it didn't help the pressure she could feel building in her body.

She wanted to run, run through the dark streets and rolling roads of the sprawling city of angels. She wanted to push herself to her limits and then keep going. She'd gotten the hang of cheerleading now and though it was quite active, it wasn't enough; she was barely sleeping at night now that her energy levels weren't being decreased properly during the day. But she couldn't run though. Every night after she'd done her homework and was gazing longingly out of the easily opened window and at the handily placed tree, the ring would warm or she'd see a silver-jacketed sentinel in a neighbour's shrub and she'd remember why she couldn't run like her body wanted her to.

Something would have to give though. She half-suspected that the reason Hecate had stayed away was because of the Hunters and, no doubt, Lady Artemis' presence. The Hunters wouldn't be able or even want to stay here forever without evidence and Annabeth still…belonged to Hecate. The witch goddess wasn't known for giving up her property voluntarily. In the mean time, something had to give and it was either going to be Annabeth or the Hunters but unlike the Hunters, Annabeth didn't have a choice; she couldn't give in with Hecate as her mistress.

There were days though when she wanted to give in so badly, when she wanted to go home. These days were almost always when she could smell the sharp scent of ozone that clung to Thalia or feel the aura of nature that emanated from Artemis. One day another scent had clung to Artemis, the smell of dusty scrolls mixed with treated wool, and it had taken every last bit of resolve Annabeth had to walk away from the goddess' spot and go home.

The strain was starting to show though. She was snapping more at Hank when before she had tolerated him, her grades were dropping and Joyce Summers had started to make worried faces when she thought 'Buffy' wasn't looking. Sometimes it was all she could do not to scream her frustration out loud. It hadn't even been that long, a week or two, but already she was starting to chafe under the persona of Buffy and several trying days in a row had almost lead her to walk up to her Hunter guard of the day (the one that smelled of warm earth) and beg to be shot. The very real threat of Hecate's punishment (the ring had become painfully hot) was all that had stopped her.

Annabeth hoped, half-guiltily and half-desperately, that the Hunters would leave her alone soon. She couldn't take this for much longer; the guilt was eating away at her bit by bit.

…..

Across the Atlantic Ocean, in the headquarters' of the Council of Watchers, a young woman burst into the meeting room holding a piece of paper.

"Yes? What is it?" asked Quentin Travers' sharply, his eyes zeroing in on the piece of paper she held.

"We've found her! The next Slayer! We've found her!" The young woman quickly gave the paper to Quentin Travers. The note read:

_Buffy Anne Summers_

_Los Angeles_

Quentin's hand brushed over the letters of her name and for an instant, he felt a cold shiver run down his spine as though someone had walked over his grave. He quickly shook off the feeling and mentally labelled it as superstitious nonsense.

"Have Merrick informed at once. I want her being trained as soon as possible." A man standing beside his seat nodded and went to the telephone on the desk in the corner. Quentin looked around the ornately decorated room and sighed, a new Slayer, a new day it seemed was dawning. He only hoped this 'Buffy' lasted longer than her predecessor, training them from scratch was time-consuming and time was the one thing they never had. He looked down at her name on the piece of paper in front of him again. Another thought suddenly occurred to him and he asked,

"Do you have any idea why it took so damn long to find her?"

"No Sir. But because of the significant time lapse between the death of the last Slayer and our discovery of her, we think there may have been another Slayer in between who we failed to find," answered the young woman; looking slightly upset about the idea that they had lost a young girl in the fight against evil. Quentin Travers thought grimly that she'd learn soon.

"Two wildcards in a row? Hmm, no matter. We have our Slayer now." The man finished the conversation on the telephone and hung up.

"Merrick is on his way Sir. He'll be there within the week." Travers' nodded. In less than a week, a young girl's life would be changed forever. Oh well. These were the prices that must be paid if they were to continue their fight against the forces of darkness, he thought as he poured himself a glass of Scotch whiskey.

…

Annabeth was sitting on the steps at the front of her school. Her Hunter guard of the day was posted across the street and the ring had been warm all day; Hecate was trying to tell her something. However, Annabeth couldn't even begin to guess what the message was about so she'd stuck to maintaining her Buffy role. Today she was waiting for a boy she didn't care about (Tyler, a football player) to grovel for her forgiveness so she would go to the winter formal with him; a dance she didn't even want to go to.

Out of the corner of her eye she'd spotted the Hunter looking oddly in one direction and she'd followed her gaze to see a rust-covered car with black spray-painted windows across the street. Annabeth hadn't looked further as the ring had become painfully warm at that point, apparently Hecate didn't want her to know about the creepy car. Before this whole debacle she would have argued and debated until she got her knowledge, like a true Athenian, but now Annabeth just couldn't bring herself to care.

Her misery hadn't stopped her from seeing the older guy approaching her though. He was sweating in the bright sunshine and was obviously not a native Californian but his black suit was crisp and his moustache was well-groomed so he clearly was used to looking professional. He also had an air about him that reminded Annabeth of her Mother when she had visited Olympus one time during the construction work; the goddess of Wisdom had had a particularly trying day, she had even looked hassled, but Athena had still made sure that Annabeth was okay in her own worried but affectionate way. Her memories started to claim her mind again in a descending spiral of pain and guilt, and she didn't realise that the man had stopped in front of her until he spoke.

"Buffy Summers?" She saw the Hunter's gaze wheel around in her direction so she smiled that perfect California girl smile as she replied, ever conscious of the warm ring on her finger.

"Yeah?" she gave him a quick once-over but she couldn't spot any concealed weapons or smell the sharp scent of chloroform (from her demigod days – that had been an interesting year at camp) so she spoke again. "Hi!" Annabeth then let her own confusion show and the smile dropped as she gave him a blank look that often adorned Buffy's face. "What?"

The man looked less hassled but his worry had seemed to increase, Annabeth could see his hands wringing helplessly.

"I need to speak with you." His tone was serious and the young demigod couldn't help her small shiver. The daughter of Athena let her natural worry appear on her face as she made up a stupid answer; her mind racing with possibilities.

"You're not from Bullock's, are you? 'Cause I-I meant to pay for that lipstick." Her eyes didn't leave him but she could see that the Hunter across the street was torn between staying hidden and crossing over to Annabeth's side of the road. She also saw the Hunter stop hesitating as an empousai burst out of the alleyway behind her. They quickly disappeared into the alley and Annabeth's sharp hearing caught the faint sounds of fighting. A stray suspicion crossed her mind, didn't empousai belong to Hecate? That idea was shelved in the back of her mind for later consideration; the guy across from her was all she needed to focus on. Unfortunately he wasn't giving her much to work with as he didn't even seem to twitch at her reply. Most people would react to a shoplifting confession unless their business was much more important.

"There isn't much time. You must come with me. Your destiny awaits." His business was definitely much more important than shoplifting. Annabeth's mind cast itself back to when her Mother had visited her in New York and a very small part of her, the part that wasn't incredibly confused, appreciated the irony. To buy herself some more time to strategize, she shook her head, allowing her very real confusion to show on her face. Why was a mortal talking to her about destiny?

"I don't have a destiny." She said, shaking her head. "I'm destiny free, really." She nodded firmly to further the impression of a dumb teenager that must have been building in his mind; at this point she'd take any advantage she could get. The man spoke again and Annabeth could practically see his inner fire warring with….guilt? She recognised the look of guilt on his face, she saw it everyday when she looked in the mirror, but why would he feel guilty?

"Yes, you have. You are the Chosen One. You alone can stop them." Her thoughts of guilt fell away as those words echoed through her mind; Chosen One. The demigod felt something stir deep within her. Although she maintained the Buffy mask, inside she started to feel anticipation building; she was going to find out her answers now.

"Who?" she asked, looking confused but feeling eager. The man appeared serious as he uttered his next sentence.

"The vampires." Annabeth forgot about pretending and actually became Buffy for a second.

"Huh?"

**AN: Wow. An update in less than a month, shocker I know. As ever, constructive criticism and reviewers are welcome!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten: Merrick, Destiny and Slaying**

Annabeth landed flat on her back, the air whooshing out of her body. The vampire hurdled the gravestone and landed on top of her. Her head twisted from side to side, hands desperately pushing him back, and she spotted her stake, she tried to reach for it with one hand, her forearm acting as a barrier to the hungry creature, but it was too far away. Then she remembered something. Annabeth put both of her hands on the vampire's chest and _pushed_. He went flying backwards and the young demigod scrambled for her stake, mentally chastising herself for forgetting that she was now a lot stronger than she used to be. Although to be fair, she hadn't had to use her new strength at all.

Annabeth hand closed around her stake and she jumped to her feet. The vampire lunged at her and she instinctively side-stepped before judo flipping him onto the ground. The demigod looked at the stake and then at the vampire's chest before diving on top of him and shoving the wooden stake in the direction of his heart. Unfortunately, he managed to propel himself upwards so she only staked him in the stomach. The slayer pulled out the stake again and slammed it home into his heart. He disintegrated and she fell to the floor, staring at the empty space and whirling dust motes where he had been. She didn't even feel out of breath. Worry started to thread its way through her mind; she didn't know her limits, she didn't know how far she could push before…

Annabeth stood up, shaking her head, and discarding that line of thought. The lack of knowledge she had about her situation was really starting to wear thin. There were heavy footsteps behind her and she turned to see Merrick approaching, his pudgy face brightened by a proud smile.

"Well done, Miss Summers. Your first vampire kill is a moment to remember for the rest of your life." Annabeth privately wondered how long that life would be.

"But I missed his heart the first time I staked him." Her pride had been wounded by that a little she would admit, although demigods mostly just beheaded things to destroy them so she hadn't exactly had a lot of practice in the heart-stabbing kill. Merrick just shook his head, still smiling.

"I highly doubt that you will make that mistake again. Besides, you killed the vampire didn't you? In this game, Miss Summers, a clean kill is all that really matters."

"I suppose so. Um, so, will I be slaying any more monsters this week?" Her voice sounded as unsure as she felt. Annabeth wanted time to study these things before she had to fight them again; she wanted to learn their weaknesses, their habits and their motivations before she had to fight them on a night by night basis. Merrick shook his head as he replied.

"No, we won't be going out again this week but we will the one after. This vampire kill was merely to provide proof, for the next few days I will be teaching you the basics of being a slayer before sending you out into the field." Annabeth nodded before a sudden thought struck her and she scrabbled to look at her watch; she had missed her curfew by hours.

"Merrick, can you give me a lift home? I don't want my parents to ground me for life before I can learn the basics."

Neither of them saw the other vampire who was watching from the shadows. He quickly hurried away, he had to get the information out; there was a new slayer in L.A and she was ripe for the picking.

* * *

><p>Merrick, apparently his official title was 'Watcher', had dropped her off on the corner of her street. Annabeth had slunk through the shadows, although they didn't seem as dark as they had before, and reached her house within a few seconds. Standing outside, she braced herself; she wouldn't be able to sneak through her window tonight. The slayer took a deep breath and strode up the path to the door of her house before quickly unlocking the door and stepping inside. She could hear Joyce and Hank discussing her in the kitchen so she made sure to shut the door as loudly as she could without breaking it. There was a moment of silence before both Joyce and Hank came rushing out of the kitchen.<p>

"Where have you been?" asked Joyce, her eyes filled with worry.

"I'm, I'm sorry. I was with Tyler." Annabeth lied as she filled with guilt at the sight of an anxious Joyce Summers.

"Why didn't you call?" Hank growled, his body moving into an aggressive posture.

"I didn't know it was so late because we were talking. I'm, I'm sorry." She turned away and took off her jacket as she hung it on a hook by the door. Her hands smoothed it down, brushing away the bits of cemetery dirt that hadn't come off in Merrick's car.

"That boy is irresponsible." Joyce Summers' voice was coated with an edge of disapproval. Annabeth turned back to her and she saw that Hank's face was turning an ever darker shade of purple by the second.

"It's not his fault Mom." Hank scoffed quietly in the background and Joyce Summers threw him a look before she spoke again.

"You know we worry, that's all." Joyce and the young demigod looked at each other for a second before the older woman shrugged. "Dinner's in ten minutes." Mrs Summers turned on her heel and walked away to the kitchen, Hank dogging her every step. Annabeth made her way to the bathroom on her left; she needed to wash the dirt off of her hands. Words floated down the hallway to her and she winced as they started to argue.

"I don't want her seeing him anymore, period!" Hank's voice was loud, almost on the verge of shouting.

"You're overreacting, dear."

"Don't do that! Don't talk to me like I'm a kid!" The demigod looked down at the sink, watching the dirt being washed away, and started to shake a little; her eyes stinging. She was causing so much damage just by being here. They'd been arguing more ever since she had arrived.

"I don't! Just forget it!" Joyce had started to raise her voice as well and Annabeth hunched over the sink, wiping furiously at her face.

"Just because you can't discipline her, I have to be the ogre!" Hank Summers started to shout in earnest now. The slayer could hear Joyce Summers' sharp intake of breath before she replied.

"I am not having this conversation again! Alright?" Their voices grew lower and muffled. Annabeth Chase stepped out of the bathroom, her hands clean of dirt, and cast a longing look at the stairs. Then she shook her head and stood tall, she was already making them argue; Annabeth would not give them another reason to lay into each other if she could help it. She had to cause as little damage as possible. She didn't want to break her family even more than she already had.

* * *

><p>In the park closest to Buffy Summers' house, a camp of silver tents was sprawled out over the grass. Mortals' eyes couldn't quite see it, their gaze tended to glaze over when they looked in its direction; Artemis preferred it that way, turning boys into animals wasn't always as fun as she had made it out to be.<p>

In the centre of the camp, a warm fire was blazing and the burly Huntress by it was wincing as another cleaned out the long, dirty, bleeding claw marks that the Empousai had left behind earlier. The Goddess of the Moon strode into the camp, her worried eyes taking in the scene.

"Phoebe, what happened?" The scarred Huntress gave her a guilty look and seemed to wilt on the spot.

"I'm sorry, My lady. I was watching the girl, she was sitting out on the steps in front of her school and I got distracted by a monster. I fought with the Empousai in the alley but she managed to knock me out." Artemis' eyes flicked to Thalia and her lieutenant quickly took up the story.

"The attack happened at the end of Phoebe's watch so I was already on my way when she was attacked. By the time I got there, the Empousai was about to kill Phoebe and Buffy had left. I killed the monster and called the others, I sent some to look for Buffy and the rest helped me get Phoebe back to our camp but they couldn't find any trace of her beyond the car park near her school." Lady Artemis nodded, her eyes losing their worried edge.

"Phoebe, will you be alright?" The scarred Huntress nodded quickly.

"I'll be fine Ma'am." Both Lady Artemis and Thalia gave her a sceptical look but the goddess began to speak again.

"Alright then, we will-" A low cough interrupted her and a look of frustration passed over her face as she turned to face the intruder. Hermes was standing behind her, looking sheepish as he fiddled with his grey messenger uniform. Artemis sighed; she knew why he was here.

"Lord Zeus has forbidden us from continuing the watch on the Summers' household hasn't he?" Hermes nodded, his hands gripping his staff tightly which caused the two snakes on it, George and Martha, to wriggle in discomfort.

"Sorry Artemis. Don't shoot the messenger!" Hermes began to glow, little wings appearing on his hat and shoes, causing all of the hunters to look away. Artemis watched his swift exit, her hands twitching as she considered grabbing her bow and loosening a few 'playful' arrows at his back.

"Why does he always say that to me?" she mused out loud before turning to her followers. "Well, as I was saying, it is time for us to go. Pack up the tents and we'll leave as quickly as we can." The goddess turned away from her relieved hunters, none of them had grown to like L.A, and walked to the edge of the camp. Thalia moved to stand beside her and they both looked up at the stars.

"We're not giving up are we?" Thalia asked as her gaze fixed on Zoe's constellation. Artemis touched her shoulder lightly.

"No, no we are not. We are just going to look somewhere else."

* * *

><p>In a dark room, far from L.A, a vampire servant bowed before a wooden chair as he entered. There was a dull thud as a drained body hit the floor.<p>

"Well?" The growled word emanated from the chair.

"We've been relayed a message, sir. The new slayer lives in Los Angeles." A dark laugh echoed off of the blood-stained walls of the room.

"Excellent, excellent. I was starting to get bored. How long until we can be there?"

"Two weeks sir. One to finish our affairs here and another to travel."

"Do it." The servant bowed even more deeply.

"Yes, Lord Lothos." The servant left and another dark chuckle filled the space he had left behind.

"Two weeks and then, let the games begin!"

**AN: Sorry it has been so long. I had a bit of trouble getting this chapter just right. Anyway, constructive criticism and reviews are welcome as always!**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven: Slayer vs. Normal

The young demigod looked up at the nondescript apartment building and then looked back down again at the slip of paper in her hand. Merrick's writing was spider-like but it looked like she'd got the right place. Shaking her head, Annabeth moved forward and pressed the intercom button for apartment 18.

"Yes, yes, who is it?" Merrick said, she noticed that he sounded harried and out of breath.

"It's Buffy, Merrick." She still had to suppress a wince at calling herself that. It still didn't feel right to her, even with the fake memories.

"Ah, yes, Miss Summers. I'm on the third floor." The electric buzzer sounded and she quickly pushed open the door before walking inside. The hallway was dark but it didn't smell as bad as some of the apartment blocks in New York that Annabeth had been in. The stairs were straight ahead of her so she ran up the cracked concrete steps swiftly and reached Merrick's faded red door with its peeling paint about twenty seconds after she had entered the building. She was starting to understand now why some people liked speed; it was just so satisfying to get things done quickly.

The young demigod took in a deep breath, put the Buffy mask in place, released the air and rapped smartly on the door. It swung open to reveal Merrick's broad suited form. He smiled warmly at her, his brown moustache creasing in the middle, and wordlessly beckoned her in.

"Lesson number one, Miss Summers, vampires cannot enter your home without your permission."

"Seriously?" she asked, out of all the legends she'd expected to be true, that one hadn't made it onto the list. He shut the door nodding, beaming at her questioning tone.

"Yes. That story is quite true. Mr Stoker did not make everything up, though he did invent some of it, it should be said." He turned and began to pootle around the box-filled apartment, humming a tune under his breath as he opened and shut various boxes in an apparently random order. Annabeth watched him search for whatever it was when a sudden thought occurred to her. She frowned.

"How come the Dracula dude knew so much about vampires?" Merrick chuckled, bending down under a moth-eaten couch to retrieve a small rectangular wooden box.

"He was a member of the Council of Watchers." Annabeth's frown deepened. Merrick opened the wooden box, muttered a curse word under his breath, and dropped it back onto the couch.

"Then, why did he tell everybody about vampires?" Merrick's search was taking him closer to what she presumed was the kitchen and he absent-mindedly answered her.

"Oh, seers foresaw the spread of information, how nothing so large would ever be able to be kept a secret for so long and Mr Stoker theorised," he stopped briefly and pulled another cardboard box from the bottom of a pile before opening it and smiling, "Ah yes, here it is. Anyway, as I was saying, he theorised that if you made the supernatural world into a story, a commonly known piece of fiction, nobody would believe their own eyes when something supernatural did occur to them. Quite a genius idea, at the time it was revolutionary." Annabeth couldn't help the thrill that went through her at the new piece of knowledge; she loved learning about how secret worlds fitted into her own. Her ring warmed slightly and she shook herself, reminding herself that she had to be Buffy.

"That's twisty thinking. But, what were you looking for?" Merrick, not quite noticing the hasty change of subject, smiled and from out of the cardboard box he pulled a thick, leather bound and padlocked book. It looked old and the word on the front was spelled in, what looked to her, a medieval way; the faded golden embossed letters of 'Vampyre' dominated the dark cover of the book. She gazed at it, practically feeling the knowledge it contained as a physical presence in the room but the ring on her finger was still warm so Annabeth hurriedly spoke again, shutting her fascination back into the corner of her mind, and forcing herself to fulfil the Buffy persona.

"That looks older than my geometry teacher." Her Watcher chuckled, not offended in the least by the reception of his book.

"You would be right Miss Summers. This was written in the twelfth century by a group of warrior monks who dedicated their lives to wiping out the demons. Quite a fun lot by all accounts; every Christmas they would run around their monastery, hunting one of their own, a member of the High Council, who was wearing a demonic mask. Unfortunately that was one of the traditions we didn't keep when they merged with us," Merrick gazed dreamily into the middle distance, "though there are certainly some people on the main council today I wouldn't mind hunting down-"

"Merrick, back on track, why are you showing me the old book?" Her Watcher shook away from his happy daydream and blinked a few times before he focused back on her face.

"Out of all the books I have been given, this is the most precious. It is a singular source, a repository for all our knowledge about vampires. It is a comprehensive study-" Annabeth resisted the urge to roll her eyes; Merrick was so like Frederick Chase it was unreal. A sharp pang of grief lanced through her at the thought but she interrupted him nonetheless and hid her pain behind a sharp retort.

"It took you ten minutes to find it." Her Watcher stopped talking and blushed a deep red.

"Well, that was a safety measure? After all if I can't find it, then somebody breaking into my apartment probably won't be able to find it either." Annabeth shook her head but she couldn't help the small smile that quirked her lips.

"Anyway, this book is what we will use in our study of the Vampire. I have other texts we can look into but this will be your main textbook." He moved over to the window where there was a small table and two chairs. The book made a loud thunking noise as it hit the wood. Merrick turned back to her and smiled another broad smile.

"Let's begin shall we?"

Annabeth dragged herself up the steps of her high school. After the hour session with Merrick, the hour that she had gained after quitting cheerleading (she was not looking forward to Hank finding out about that), she had gone back to the Summers' home. She'd done as much of her homework as she could, eaten her dinner and sneaked out of her room at around eleven to have another, longer lesson with Merrick. The second lesson had been pure physical work and she had learned a lot of martial arts moves in a very short space of time; her mind and body were buzzing as they integrated the new information.

Her Watcher had told her that Slayers had some sort of special physical memory that helped them to learn so many new fighting styles quickly; it made sense to Annabeth, after all, if you only had one soldier you had better get them up to scratch as quickly as possible.

She had always been quick on the mark when it came to new moves, even before she was called; the demigod had always thought that it was just her mother's legacy. It unnerved her that even before she knew anything about this other world, it had still impacted her life. She was starting to see how this thread had been interwoven with her own lifeline; why monsters came after her more than her siblings, why she had always had an edge in fighting that had lead to her becoming one of the foremost fighters in Camp Half-Blood.

A sudden jolt shoved Annabeth's musing aside and she stopped dead on the broad stone steps. Amber Jones, the new cheerleading captain with the blonde hair that everybody in California seemed to want, stood in front of her and she was flanked by the rest of the squad. Amber sneered at her, red lips parting over chemically whitened teeth, and Annabeth restrained the urge to punch her, at least until a time when they were not in front of so many possible witnesses.

"So, Summers, I'm surprised to see you in school after you committed social suicide yesterday." Amber's voice was smug, as smug as Kronos' had been in the throne room of Olympus. Annabeth's mental mantra of 'don't punch her, it's not worth it' faltered but a new idea sprang to mind and she smiled innocently at the cheerleader before replying.

"So, Jones, I'm surprised to see you in school at all. I thought you'd be in beauty parlour getting your nails done, especially after that colour you used yesterday." Amber looked down at her nails, her face creasing with anxiety. While she was preoccupied, Annabeth quickly slipped past her and her minions who were also trying to peer at Amber's nails.

"What was wrong with my nail polish yesterday?" Amber's demanding voice carried through the open doors and into the hallway. Annabeth could hear the frantic reassurances of the cheerleader's lackeys as she walked further and further away. The young demigod smirked but the smirk quickly slid off of her face as a leather clad shoulder whacked into her.

On instinct, she grabbed the body and slammed it into the wall. Oliver Pike stared at her, open mouthed, as his feet dangled several inches off the floor. Silence rippled outwards and away from them. Students around them stopped and also started to stare at her. Nobody spoke and Annabeth dropped him immediately but that didn't stop the quiet bubble that had surrounded them being burst by a single muttered word,

"Freak." That word passed through the whole crowd quickly. Girls started to whisper behind their hands and the daughter of Athena could hear their muffled mocking laughter and snide comments. She looked up at Pike, and the visceral hatred Hecate had programmed into her slid away as she looked into his scared eyes. She felt like such a…a…bully and thick, clogging shame clung to her heart.

"Sorry, I, I didn't meant to do that." Annabeth said in a low voice. Her hands shook, she was used to having far more control over her body than this; a control that meant that she didn't hurt somebody when they bashed into her, a control that she had always prized as a daughter of the Goddess of Wisdom.

Pike was still staring at her. His hands were clutching the bottom of his jacket. Annabeth backed away from him and his wide fearful eyes before turning away. The high school students surrounding them parted with accusing eyes and sniggers aimed at her. The young demigod knew that she wouldn't be able to handle this for the rest of the day so she did something she had grown to hate, an act that had wormed its way into her psyche until it had rested there like a greedy dragon guarding a horde of golden treasure.

When she had started running those few weeks ago, Annabeth had forgotten how to stop.

AN: Okay, I know Annabeth is doing a lot of running but she has a lot to go through before I can build her back up so….get used to it for now? She will eventually stop. Constructive criticism and reviews are welcome.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve: Guidance

Grey concrete blurred under her feet and buildings flashed by her. There wasn't a storm on this bright, sunny, L.A day but Annabeth still had a sense of Déjà vu. She snorted to herself, freaking out a few pedestrians she was running by. At least this time she had a destination.

Her keen eyes picked out a cop car on the road ahead of her and she quickly ducked down an alleyway; getting caught by the cops and sent home for truancy was not a good idea. The alleyway was shorter than she'd expected and a tall wall faced her. By the wall, there were three metal garbage cans lined up and they were all covered by their lids. She gauged the distance between the top of the garbage cans and the top of the wall.

The Slayer nodded to herself before springing forwards in a mass of muscle and speed. She took a running jump and kicked off of the top of the left garbage can. Her mystically enhanced muscles propelled her upwards and she cleared the top of the wall easily before landing gracefully on her feet on the other side. Instinctively she tucked herself into a forward roll on landing; her bones weren't even jarred by the drop as she jumped back into a standing position in one fluid moment.

Annabeth didn't allow herself to look back at the wall as she started to run again. She had to get to Merrick and talk to him, not make pointless judgements of skill. The young demigod weaved through the pedestrians expertly as she made her way to his apartment but the pure mass of people stopped her from going as fast as she would like.

She soon reached his apartment block and even though the sun was beating down on the concrete city, causing heat distorted air to swirl on every street, she wasn't sweating or even breathing hard. A young man was leaving Merrick's apartment block and she brushed past him, darting through the open door. A cry of protest followed her as she tackled the stairs but she ignored it as she pounded upwards and onwards.

Her Watcher's faded red door loomed and she stopped in front of it before rapping on the door. She could hear Merrick bustling around inside and she felt the vibrations of his heavy tread increase as he moved closer to the door. There was a tiny squeak as he pushed away the old one-cent sized metal cover for the spy hole. Bolts scraped against wood as he hurriedly worked to open his fortified door. It swung open and she looked miserably up at him.

"Miss Summers, what are you doing here? Are you alright?" He stepped aside and ushered her inside his apartment. There were a lot less cardboard boxes but every available surface seemed to be covered in books of all ages and origins. Annabeth thought she could see a scroll or two tucked away in one corner. The door thudded shut and she jumped slightly.

"At school today, a boy accidentally bumped into me. I picked him up and pinned him against a wall several feet off the ground. I didn't do it on purpose; my body just reacted before my mind could tell it to stop." Merrick sighed sadly.

"Yes, I thought this might happen in your case." Annabeth's jaw muscles tightened and she seethed quietly. Merrick, perhaps noticing this, spoke again. "I am sorry I didn't tell you Miss Summers but I did not want to worry you early on with something that might not come to pass. Have I explained to you about how the council finds a slayer so quickly?" The young demigod silently accepted his apology and her muscles relaxed.

"No, you haven't," she said, her voice echoing through the bare apartment. Her Watcher took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow before indicating that she should take a seat on the book covered couch. Annabeth moved a few books aside, sat down and looked at him, waiting for the explanation. Merrick began to pace.

"_Into each generation_, a slayer is born, one girl, in all the world, a chosen one, one born with the strength and skill to hunt the vampires and the demons." His speech sounded like it had been drilled into him a thousand times. "This is what we are told in our induction to the International Council of Watchers. It is a speech that sticks with us all and if we are chosen to guide the next slayer, often it is repeated in our explanation to them. Later though, we learn that it is not strictly true." He paused and wiped his forehead with the handkerchief again. "It would be more true to say that into each generation, hundreds of girls are born with the potential to become the slayer, who is truly a chosen one out of many." Annabeth had to restrain herself from asking a barrage of questions. "These potentials have a distinct magical signature, one we can trace and use to find them when they are but infants. In the seventeenth century, we lost a slayer in the Salem witch trials because we didn't know she was a potential. Before then, we had let the potentials grow up and live normal lives with their families but this slayer died because she was seen as an unnatural, as a witch, by the townsfolk and she died when she should have been fighting to avert an apocalypse; one which had already claimed the life of her predecessor. It was close, that apocalypse, and the IWC vowed that from then on that the potentials would be found, taken from their families and trained in the pursuit of the greater good."

"You kidnap kids?" Annabeth felt sick, she had chosen to run away from home but those other kids hadn't even had a choice. Merrick's moustache bristled and he looked at her with a mix of anger and sadness.

"We train them how to be warriors, how to fight for an ideal greater than their own lives."

"An ideal they haven't chosen is no ideal at all!" Annabeth shouted. She would have said more but the ring on her finger had gone from cold to hot in one blinding instant and it felt like a hand had clawed itself around her throat, stopping her from speaking.

"_Listen to him, my chosen._" A rich voice, filled with the mystery of a crescent moon and the fear of dark crossroads, whispered in her ear and the scent of incense wafted into her nose.

"I understand your misgivings. I have them too, especially after the last slayer, a council trained one, was killed so early." Merrick looked like he needed a drink and his handkerchief came out again. Annabeth's anger grew smaller as she looked at him. She realised quickly that Merrick was only a small part of a larger whole; the actions of the IWC were not his fault and her anger was irrational. The invisible hand around her throat loosened itself slightly and the young demigod spoke again.

"Why wasn't I found?" she asked and a look of relief passed through Merrick's eyes.

"Some of the potentials are never found. There is never one single reason. Sometimes they have faery blood, or they live close to a magically charged area like Ley lines or a Hellmouth. Sometimes they are taken by demons and sold to other realms for a price or they die when they are young. There are millions of reasons but over the centuries the Council has become better at tightening the net. A wild card like you becoming the slayer is rare nowadays."

"You said earlier that you thought this might happen in my case. Is being a wildcard what you meant?" the scent of incense was fading now but Annabeth knew that Hecate was still with her, she could feel her in the small apartment room. Her Watcher nodded gravely.

"An advantage to being a council trained slayer is that when they are called, they have impeccable control of themselves due to years of practice. You are still new to this and your body fights with instinct and passion much more than it fights with control and carefully learned moves. But don't worry my dear," Merrick smiled at her broadly, his sunny disposition melting away the earlier gloom, "as your Watcher I am here to help you and together we will overcome this problem. I promise you."

Annabeth could see that he believed his words and she wanted to believe them too. She needed a guide, someone to help her and teach her. She needed Merrick. The lingering vestiges of distrust deep inside of her were pushed away and Annabeth inhaled deeply. It was time to take a leap of faith.

"Okay, Merrick. Together." She nodded at him and smiled weakly before getting up from her seat. "I don't really want to have to go back to school though. Some of the other kids there…well…I'm afraid I'll end up hurting them if I go back." Her Watcher beamed at her.

"Oh, the more the merrier I assure you Miss Summers. We can use today to go over the physical side of your training in more depth and teach your body to distinguish between foe and friend." Annabeth nodded again, her weak smile growing in strength. Hecate's presence started to fade from the room and she finally began to relax a little. Maybe this whole leap of faith thing wouldn't be that bad.

AN: Normally I don't post so often but I was inspired for some reason so….here you go! Reviewers and constructive criticism welcome!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen: Crossroads

The blood red sun was setting over the dark city of angels. Annabeth was weaving between the gloomy back streets and the bright open boulevards on her way home. Merrick had offered to give her a lift but she had still had some energy she wanted to burn off before she reached her house.

As she drew closer and closer to the Summers residence, Annabeth's good mood started to wither and die like a balloon deflating after it had been opened again. She knew that the school would have called Hank and Joyce, she knew that they would start arguing again and she knew that once again, it would be her fault. The guilt she felt was starting to scrape against other feelings that had started to rise. Yes, it was her fault but…she couldn't exactly change anything about the situation. Maybe she should try to make the best of a bad lot? Although how she should go about it, she had no idea. Her new train of thought was shelved away as she walked along the street that lay outside her home.

The house seemed deceptively calm as she approached, like it was waiting for her to enter before letting all of Hades break loose. There were two cars in the driveway and she could see that a light was on in the living room. The slayer approached the house and stopped outside before steeling herself and walking up to the front door. She took out her keys and used them to quietly unlock the door. There was no sound of voices in the house and she suppressed a shiver as she entered, shutting the door behind her.

"Buffy, could you please come into the kitchen?" asked Joyce Summers and Annabeth almost jumped out of her skin; did mothers have some sort of supernatural sense when it came to wayward daughters or was it just her? The young demigod walked along the hallway and entered the kitchen. Hank was sitting there, his beady eyes glaring in her direction and Joyce Summers looked disappointed. Annabeth had to suppress a wince at Joyce's face. "Your school called us today. They told us that you'd gotten into a fight before running off of school grounds. We were very worried about you young lady. You should have called us and told us where you were." Joyce's voice was calm but that made her words all the worse. Hank fumed silently in the background.

"I know I should have called you Mom, but I didn't want to go back to school today." Annabeth knew that was a lame excuse but she could hardly tell them that she had been practicing slaying so she could go out and kill vampires; Merrick had been very insistent on the secrecy aspect and Annabeth was inclined to agree with him having lived with the Summers.

"Tell me more about the fight, Buffy." Joyce's voice was still calm but there was an undertone of disappointment in every word that hurt the vulnerable side of Annabeth just that little bit more.

"I was walking in the main corridor of school. Pike bumped into me and I threw him into the wall accidentally. I was shocked so I ran." Hank scoffed. Joyce threw him a warning look but he spoke anyway.

"How do you throw somebody into the wall accidentally?" Annabeth's frayed emotions tore at the sight of his condemning face and hot anger burned like a wildfire through her mind.

"Look, I didn't do it on purpose. It was instinct!" Joyce looked like she wanted to intervene but before she could Hank rose from his seat with his cold, beady eyes glaring at Annabeth.

"Why should I believe you?" His words had an edge of meanness to them that reminded the daughter of Athena of Ares and his warlike presence.

"Hank-" Joyce protested but Hank Summers lifted a hand and she stopped herself from talking. Annabeth clenched her fists, feeling as she had in the diner when she was a kid and Ares had talked to her, Percy and Grover; she wanted to hit something.

"Because it's the truth." Every syllable was laden with the anger she was itching to unleash on the man who thought he was her father. Hank sneered, ignoring her obvious rage.

"You haven't exactly been telling us a lot of that recently Buffy. When were you going to tell us that you had quit the cheer-leading team? What have you been doing in the hour we think you're at school attending practice?"

"I quit the cheer-leading team because it was the right thing to do for me." She ignored the last question, she knew he cared more about her quitting than where she was or what she was doing.

"For you? For you?" Hank seemed to be verging on the apoplectic and Annabeth just couldn't help herself.

"Yes, for me. I care about more than waving pom-poms in the air or sucking up to the daughter of your boss."

"Go to your room." Hank said, his teeth grinding together. The demigod looked to Joyce and saw her worried face; her anger lessened at the sight, she cared about her aunt, even if she was under Hank's thumb most of the time. So she shoved down her rage, turned on her heel and left the kitchen.

Raised voices followed her up the stairs as she stalked towards her room but she didn't bother to focus on what they were saying; she could guess the general gist. She marched past the sea of happy photos, resolutely not looking at them, before entering her room. The smell of incense hit her nostrils as soon as she opened the door and she all but snarled at the middle aged woman who was standing on the other side of the room.

"What do you want Hecate?" The woman looked unimpressed as she raised a dark eyebrow and waved a hand. The door shut behind Annabeth.

"I have come to talk to you. We have not had a chance to go over what I expect of you as my servant." Her voice was quiet but unforgiving, like shadows cast by the moon.

"The Hunters have been gone for awhile now. Why didn't you come earlier?" Annabeth snapped.

"A certain degree of politeness is expected in all of my servants." Hecate's said dryly before continuing. "As for why I did not return earlier, I was waiting for you to acclimatize yourself to your new situation." The demigod couldn't help but laugh.

"And you chose now of all times?" At Hecate's raised brow, the daughter of Athena rolled her eyes and belatedly added, "Ma'am." The goddess settled herself on the window seat and indicated with a wave of her hand for Annabeth to sit down. After she had perched on the edge of the bed, the goddess of Magic began to speak.

"You are weighed down by guilt. The anger coursing through your veins was a sign to me that you are beginning to move beyond crippling guilt. I wanted you as my servant because you are a fighter at heart; I was waiting for you to remember that." Annabeth hated that she was right.

"Why did you conscript me into your service?" the demigod asked, unable to help her thirst for knowledge.

"Conscript is such a strong word." The daughter of Athena rolled her eyes again.

"Fine, recruit then." Hecate's lips twitched and she inclined her head in acceptance.

"As I said before, you have a great destiny ahead of you. When you were just a demigod you were a valuable knight on the chess board but now you are a slayer as well, you have been upgraded to a queen." Annabeth's eyes narrowed.

"As flattering as that chess metaphor was, you didn't answer my question ma'am." A smirk stole across Hecate's face as the title of respect crossed her lips.

"No, no I did not and I will not tell you for quite some time." The demigod opened her mouth to demand she answer the question but she thought better of it and pressed her lips together again. There was nothing she could say to make the goddess tell her the truth. Sighing, the daughter of Athena deflated and asked in defeat,

"What do you expect of me as your servant?" There was a flash of approval in Hecate's eyes.

"You will attend training with your Watcher and carry out your duties as the slayer. Every Saturday and Sunday you are to go to the closest crossroad and shed a drop of blood there. I will transport you to my home and throughout the day I will be teaching you certain skills that you need to learn to carry out the duties I will give you." The daughter of Athena nodded in acceptance. The goddess rose and so did Annabeth; the demigod didn't want her to have any form of advantage over her, even if it was something as trivial as height. The Goddess of Magic looked her up and down before nodding to herself. "Yes, you will be fine. Goodbye Miss Chase, I will see you this Saturday." The goddess' form began to glow and Annabeth closed her eyes, turning her head away as the goddess revealed her true form. The glow faded and she opened her eyes to an empty room.

"Brilliant." She muttered before flopping back down on the bed; this was going to be fun, she could tell.

* * *

><p>In the dark room, far from L.A, the minion entered, bowing as he walked in.<p>

"Everything is ready for our departure Master." There was a low, scraping chuckle like a door creaking to a close.

"Excellent, excellent. You have done well, my servant. You will be rewarded when the slayer is captured." The minion bowed lower.

"Oh thank you, Lord Lothos." The shadowy man rose from the chair and glided to the door. After all, there was a slayer waiting for him.

**AN: I know its been awhile so I would appreciate constructive criticism.**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen: Benny

It was another Friday night in L.A and the city was practically bursting with life on the well-lit streets. The darker alleys and cemeteries were, unfortunately for the tired Slayer, bursting with the undead. Annabeth ducked under yet another disco era vampire and wondered why there were so many seventies undead. Had the seventies sucked that much? A flash of vampiric fangs made her wince at the unintentional pun and she quickly dusted her opponent before he could sink his teeth into her.

She straightened and looked around the dark alley. There was only a few piles of dust and the girl she had saved had already ran off back to the well-lit streets of the city that never slept.

"You're welcome," she muttered under her breath, frowning in the direction the girl had gone. Sighing, the Slayer slinked away into the night. She had a whole city full of cemeteries to patrol after all.

…

Pike and Benny Jacks were snorting with laughter as they passed a dark bottle between the two of them. The grimy headstones of the cemetery surrounded them, encircling them with stony walls.

"Hey, you hear about Summers? She's gone off the deep end, like, all the way, man!" Benny crowed with delight. Pike rolled his eyes and shoved him over, grabbing the alcohol as he did so.

"Shut up dude. She isn't crazy. I think she's just tired of high school shit already you know?" His friend shut up, looked at him, and then burst into laughter.

"Aww, she throws you into a wall and you start crushing on her? Wow man, new low, I salute you!" Benny grabbed the bottle and raised it high in a mock salute. Pike shoved him back against the headstone he was resting against.

"I don't have a crush on her! Shut up Benny!" Pike yelled. Then another voice, a growling voice, spoke up.

"Yeah, shut up Benny." A pale man with glowing yellow eyes and a weird forehead appeared from behind Benny and bit into his neck. The boy screamed and Pike was paralysed by shock. He couldn't believe what was happening.

When Benny's scream turned into a gurgle, Pike, shaking himself awake, jumped up and tackled the guy who had attacked him. His grip on Benny loosened and he fell to the ground looking dazed. The teenager started to punch him over and over again but the guy quickly recovered and threw him onto the ground. Pike's bones rattled with the hit and he just managed to stop himself from groaning. The attacker leaned over him and smirked.

"I guess its two for one tonight, huh?" The man leaned in, his mouth wide open, and Pike thought he could see fangs.

"Really? That was such a cliché. I mean you've been around since forever: couldn't you come up with better lines?" said a familiar Californian voice. His attacker stopped and looked up, his brow furrowing. Pike stayed absolutely still.

"Well, little girl, since you don't like my lines maybe I should," the man was cut off mid-sentence by an arrow to the chest. He looked down and mumbled, "oh shit." Then he burst into dust. Pike froze as the dust covered him.

"What….what just happened?" He managed to say, staring into the empty space where the man had been. A small hand reached down, grabbed his shoulder and yanked him upright. Pike turned around and his jaw dropped. He had definitely recognised that voice. "Summers? What the hell?" Buffy Summers looked at him, her eyes wide.

"Uh….hi Pike. You know I was just here, seeing the sights," Her voice had the wheedling-please-believe-me tone and Pike cut her off.

"It's a cemetery." His deadpan tone threw her off, he could tell by the way she winced.

"Um, I know that. But what are you doing in a cemetery, at night, by yourself?"

"By myself? I'm not alone, Benny is here with me." Pike turned to where Benny had been but there was just a broken bottle of booze and an empty space. "Aw hell Summers, there must have been another one of those things which took him. We got to go get him!" He turned to run but her hand restrained him.

"Pike, look." Her voice was gentle and his eyes followed the hand she'd used to point towards another tombstone just a few graves away from where Benny had been. There was a dark pool of liquid and a pale hand that flopped from behind a tombstone. He pushed forwards, escaping Summers' strong grip, and half stumbled half ran to the tombstone.

His mouth was dry.

His fingers shook.

He took one look behind the stone, at the gaping mouth and unnatural neck, before he turned away and vomited onto the ground. He kept heaving and heaving. Tears dribbled down his cheeks and his legs started to shake. Just as he was about to collapse into the pool of vomit, two strong hands grasped him and pulled him away. Summers felt so stable in that moment that he let himself be dragged out and away from the graveyard.

"C'mon Pike. I'm going to take you somewhere safe ok?" Her voice was strong and he believed her.

"But…but…what about Benny? We can't just leave him there. What if…what if something happens to him?" Her grip on him tightened as she tried to turn around and go back to his friend.

"When we're far enough away, we'll call the police from a payphone and tell them where he is." Her voice was still so calm and he started to fight her grip even more than before.

"We got to tell them about the monster that did it! We got to tell them about the monster!" His voice rose and Summers dragged him away from the odd looks they were getting and into an alleyway.

"We can't do that." There was a finality to her words that made no sense to Pike.

"Why not? They can do something!" Summers, Buffy, stopped and held him so he was facing her. Her fierce eyes locked with his and for the second time in his life, Pike was afraid of this little cheerleader.

"Pike. They can't, they won't do anything."

"Why not?" He asked, still confused.

"Think Pike! You're not an idiot. What do you remember about the attacker and how I got rid of him?" He tried to twist out of her grasp and away from those eyes but she held firm. The teenager started to rack his mind about the encounter.

"Uh…uh…he had fangs and his forehead was weird. Um, he had these yellow eyes that weren't natural. You got rid of him with an arrow to the chest and he burst into dust. But what does that change?"

"I hit him in the heart with a _wooden_ arrow, Pike. Come on, I know you're upset but I need you to think about this." He frowned, there was something in the back of his mind, yelling and screaming for attention.

"Wait, wooden? Like a…stake." His face cleared and he looked at her, really looked at her. She was calm, her face expressionless apart from those fierce eyes. His world view tilted on its axis as he looked at her. "Vampire? He was a vampire?" She nodded. "But…but they aren't real." Buffy's face softened.

"Yeah, they are Pike. That's why we can't tell the police. They'll think we're crazy, they won't believe us and they'll think that we did it while we were high on drugs or something." Pike wanted to disagree with her but then he remembered his school record and Buffy's recent weird behaviour. The cops would definitely think they were on drugs.

"So what do we do now?" He asked.

"We are going to get a few blocks from here. Call the police on a payphone and then I'm taking you somewhere safe." Her scary calmness had returned and it grated along Pike's nerves like keys scraping along a car.

"How can you be so calm? I mean, you knew Benny, you saw him at school. Why aren't you freaking out that he's dead? Are you that much of an ice-queen Summers?" A flicker of…something crossed her face and she turned away, dragging Pike with her as she went. He scrambled to stay upright and he almost missed her strained reply.

"I've watched people who meant a hell of a lot more to me than Benny Jacks die in front of me. I'm past freaking out and already at angry. So I promise you Pike, I do give a damn and I'm going to take it out on all the vampires I see. But at the end of the day, he's dead and you're not. So right now I am helping you and I need you to cooperate. Alright?"

"Ok," he whispered.

"Ok," she breathed out. Then she pulled him out of the alley and into a busy LA street that was filled with laughing, living, people.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen:

Merrick was pacing backwards and forwards in the small apartment. Buffy's eyes were flicking between him and the silent boy on the couch. Pike hadn't spoken since she'd convinced him to come with her.

"Miss Summers, why did you bring him here?" Merrick asked; his voice was strained and he was looking reproachfully at her. Buffy breathed deeply and tried not to sound too snappish when she replied.

"He saw me, he knew me from school. I couldn't leave him behind and to get him to come with me I had to explain about vampires." Her tone was calm but even Merrick, caught up in his whirlwind of worry, could sense her underlying anger.

"Yes, but, Miss Summers," Merrick was speaking again but before he could get further than her name, Pike interrupted.

"Hey, old guy, leave her alone. She was just being a good person alright? So lay off. I won't tell anyone," his voice dropped to a low murmur, "not like anyone else would believe me anyway." Buffy jumped slightly when he spoke; she thought he was too out of it to be listening. However Merrick just sighed, rubbing his forehead with his hand.

"I'm sorry Miss Summers. This is…unexpected." The Watcher waved a hand at the room and Buffy took it to mean that he meant the whole situation.

"You fight vampires for a living and probably loads of other weird stuff, isn't the unexpected part of that?" Pike asked, startling a laugh out of her Watcher.

"Yes there is that, Mr..."

"Pike. Oliver Pike," Pike paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before he continued, "So you teach Buffy how to fight?" Merrick nodded.

"I do and how to kill the things she fights as well."

"Could you teach me?" Pike asked. Merrick stared at him and Buffy was having a hard time restraining herself because, well, what? Most people, normal people, ran in the other direction screaming when they brushed shoulders (or tentacles) with the supernatural.

"Teach you?" Merrick seemed uncertain, as if no one had ever asked him that before.

"Yeah. I want to learn how to fight those things. I want to help Buffy." Her Watcher started to splutter.

"You would be safer, and therefore helping Buffy, by not going into cemeteries or dark alleyways at night. Besides the Slayer fights alone, it has always been the way."

"Did that work out for them?" Buffy asked, interjecting into the conversation. Merrick turned his harried gaze on her. She repeated her question. "Did that work out for them? I mean, how long does your average Slayer live?"

"There is no such thing as an average Slayer," Merrick was starting to make excuses and though she liked him, she wasn't about to let him off the hook.

"How long did the last Slayer live?" There was a long silence after that question. Her Watcher mopped his brow with his handkerchief and sighed.

"I was hoping you wouldn't ask me that. She was the Slayer for four years. She sacrificed herself to save her Watcher and her family. He has since been banned by the Council when it emerged that he was too _attached_ to his charge."

"What about the Slayer before her? Did she have anyone fight with her?" Buffy asked. The Watcher began to look tired instead of harried.

"No. No she did not have anyone fighting with her. Her Watcher was a staunch traditionalist. She lasted for nine months. The Slayer before her lasted a little over a year and the slayer before her was only active for six months." Her Watcher avoided her eyes and she let out a long breath. Pike remained silent, his eyes had been flicking between the two of them and she could see that he was putting the pieces together in his head.

"Will you train him?" Her voice was quiet but in the near silent apartment it was almost deafening. She locked eyes with her Watcher who seemed unable to look away. Finally, Merrick nodded.

"Yes, yes I will," he then turned to Pike, "however, Mr Pike, if you hinder her in anyway or inadvertently cause her death, I will not hesitate to act accordingly. Are we clear?"

"Yes we are." Pike replied, his head raised and fists clenched in determination. Buffy smiled slightly, it would be nice to have someone at her back again. Her thoughts turned to a black haired boy with sparkling green eyes and she winced, throwing the thought away as quickly as it had come; she couldn't think about Percy now, not here. She looked down at her watch, noting the time. It was early in the morning, just gone midnight. Her meeting with Hecate was later today. She sighed loudly. The other two turned to her.

"Sorry guys. I need to go home. Pike will you be ok with Merrick?" The boy nodded. "Ok, cool. Merrick I'll swing by in the evening to collect weapons for patrol."

"Of course Miss Summers. I will see you later." She hesitated awkwardly, not sure exactly what to say, before she muttered a goodbye and left.

* * *

><p>Outside, in the dark yet busy streets of L.A, she cursed herself internally. Thinking about Percy had thrown her off. When she immersed herself in the persona of Buffy she always knew what to say and she always had a snappy comeback. Annabeth knew that she probably shouldn't immerse herself so deeply but it was the only way she could think of to survive this. She dodged a vomiting drunk and ran through an alleyway to avoid a nearing cop car. She took another look at her watch and had to resist cursing Hecate out loud as thoughts of her upcoming lesson started to fill her ever busy brain.<p>

Did the goddess even realise what she had taken away from Annabeth? Her looks, her name, her personality; everything had been stripped away, leaving a bare bones being behind. She knew that what the goddess had done, what she had let happen to her, was essentially like being thrust into a deep undercover job; one that would take years. Annabeth understood that there was the possibility that she might start to forget who she was but at the same time, she couldn't handle the strain of being two people at once; she was even referring to herself as Buffy now when she was in 'Buffy' situations. She was working on striking a balance between being herself and acting the part though. Maybe over the years Buffy could evolve to become more like Annabeth? The demigod tucked the idea away in a dark cranny of her mind before concentrating on navigating the dark alleys of the city.

It surprised her how well and how quickly she had come to know the city. She had visited her Aunt here a few times but she had only really explored the place when she was here on her first quest with Percy. L.A was above the Underworld and the modern day entrance to Hades was in the city; it appeared to be a recording studio ironically enough. Los Angeles had also been the home of Procrustes, 'The Stretcher' as he was known, and before Percy had beaten him the monster had been running a water bed business. She stopped suddenly in the grimy, dark alley. Was it possible that the business was still there? Monstrous places were always overlooked by mortals or ignored unless they happened to wander inside, it was possible that it had just been left to rot. Her mind started to race. L.A was a busy city with quite a few transit stations, what if the Stretcher had beaten other demigods that had been passing through? Would he have kept their weapons and possessions as prizes? She turned in the direction of the business and glanced at her watch. It had only been fifteen minutes since she'd left Merrick's. She had more than enough time to go take a look. Annabeth hesitated for a few seconds in the grimy backstreet before moving forwards, her mind made up; it was time to go visit the lair of the Stretcher.

* * *

><p>The building was dark, a few windows were smashed but the door was shut. The sign above the huge storefront still declared the building to be 'Crusty's Water-bed Palace' (apparently Procrustes had been too much of a mouthful for the average water-bed buyer) so Annabeth assumed the building had not been taken over by a mortal. She looked around and seeing no bystanders she scurried forward. The door wasn't even locked. She opened it carefully and slipped inside before shutting the door quietly behind her; she didn't want to alert any possible inhabitants to her arrival.<p>

The empty showroom was eerie in the darkness. The old beds were hulking, shadowy things in the near complete gloom. She stepped forwards and winced as her foot splashed in a puddle; obviously some of the beds had leaked. She moved back, out of the puddle and began sneaking around the edge of the dim room, keeping one side to the wall as much as possible. All she could hear was her breathing and the faint thud of blood pounding in her ears. She moved carefully around a bed, her eyes searching for any hidden surprises. A sudden creak pierced the silence and she looked up, certain that the creak had come from above. The Slayer breathed in deeply through her nose; all she could smell was the stale odour of disuse that pervaded every corner of the place. She moved on as slowly and as quietly as possible. The building was run down so the creak could have been caused by the natural state of the place but Annabeth wanted to be as careful as possible.

Finally the demigod reached the back door that was marked 'Private'. This door would lead to Procrustes' personal rooms, she was sure of it. However, as her eyes strained to see in the gloom, there was a coded lock on the door; it was manual as well, so the lack of electricity wouldn't have affected it. She pushed the door lightly, trying to test its strength, but the door swung open. Annabeth immediately inspected the lock and cursed as she saw the scratches; a new monster must have moved in. She couldn't leave now, her scent was all over the showroom and any monster would be able to track it. If they followed it to her home, it could kill her family and if it followed the older scent to Merrick, it could kill him and Pike. She also couldn't leave a monster that was probably feeding off of the mortal population; it wasn't only vampires and demons that depended on mortals for sustenance. Resisting the urge to mutter swearwords, she gently pushed the door open again and moved into the stairwell beyond.

Metal stairs lead both up and down; she realised that there was a cellar underneath the showroom. Annabeth looked down into the gloomy darkness that hid a basement door. She had no torch or any way to make a light and Slayer senses could only do so much in the pitch black; she'd be at a major disadvantage. If she went upstairs it would be lighter but there had been that creak…the monster could be up there too. She hesitated for a few moments before starting to head up; she had better odds where she could fully use her abilities.

Metal stairs were noisy, the demigod knew this, so she stuck to the edges where the metal had been bolted to the wall. Her eyes were flickering between where she was placing her feet and the dim stairs ahead of her. The staircase spiralled up and up; in places the steps were practically rusted away or the railing was hanging off. Still she climbed until eventually she reached another door. This one wasn't coded and she couldn't see any obvious claw gouges so she pushed it open a crack. Stale air rushed out to meet her but she couldn't smell anything obviously monstrous so pushed the door open fully and walked inside.

The room beyond was open plan and furnished in a contemporary style. Huge windows dominated the walls, letting in the weak strains of moonlight that were lighting the room. She looked around, checking for any movement but everything was still. A glow caught the corner of her eye and she looked towards it. She sighed in relief, dust motes swirling in the air; she'd know the glow of celestial bronze weaponry anywhere. She hurried over to the weapons and began to inspect them. Most were old, many were broken as well but there was an old shield, two swords and a dagger that looked to be in good condition; or at least they would be after she had cleaned them up.

She searched around the weaponry and found a chest to the right of a spear rack. She opened it and winced as the first thing she saw was a blood-stained Camp Half Blood t-shirt. She pushed the shirt aside and tried not to think of the missing demigods it could belong to; there were too many to count if she was being honest. Underneath the shirt, there was a small backpack, glow sticks (had the demigod been on their way to a rave? Or to an underground monster lair?), several pouches of golden drachmas and a tin filled with old ambrosia squares; she wondered if the food of the gods had a best by date. Shrugging, she packed the money, the food and the dagger into the bag. She then put on the backpack and grabbed the shield and sword. The shield was strapped onto her left arm and she held the sword with her right hand. Clumsily, she grabbed the box of glow sticks with her left hand and held it behind the shield. She breathed in deeply and turned. She had a monster to slay.

AN: Sorry for the late update! Constructive criticism is appreciated and thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far!


End file.
